The Snake The Lion and the One Ring
by Katie Macpherson
Summary: Hermione wants to get away from the pain. Draco wants to be free from his father's name. After the fall of Voldemort the two are thrust into Middle Earth where they are taken in and trained by the elves. But dark forces are rising, forces the young witch and wizard never saw coming. The Battle for Middle Earth is about to begin. And Hermione and Draco are right in the middle of it.
1. Chapter 1

**Hey Everyone! This is an idea that's been bouncing around in my head for a while, and when I get ideas like that, they won't leave me alone, I have to write them down or I go nuts. I've long thought a crossover between Harry Potter and Lord of the Rings, as they are some of my most favourite books, would be a phenomenal idea. And including my two favorite characters, Draco Malfoy and Hermione Granger would just be the icing on the cake. So I hope you enjoy Hermione and Draco's adventures in Middle Earth. Now without further ado, please enjoy The Witch, The Wizard and the One Ring!**

Chapter 1: Escape from Hogwarts

Hermione pulled the hood of her cloak up higher as she hurried across the grounds of Hogwarts. She was making her way toward the Forbidden Forest, just across the castle grounds and while she and Harry and Ron and all the rest of Hogwarts students had been told time and time again never to go in there, no one listened.

She chuckled softly as she recalled the time when Hagrid had been arrested for supposedly opening the Chamber of Secrets again during their second year and was carted off to Azkaban for his crimes. He had left a bizarre statement in his wake, imploring anyone who had any questions about the happenings of the school, that they should simply follow the spiders.

Bizarre wasn't it?

Hermione had certainly thought so. But that didn't stop Ron and Harry from plunging into the forest like the bull headed idiots they were. They had gotten their questions answered from an enormous eight legged former pet of Hagrid's and in the process had almost ended up being eaten.

But their crazy actions had saved her after she had been petrified and the monstrous Basilisk had been slain all thanks to the efforts of Harry Potter.

Hermione turned and looked back at the castle where fireworks were currently going off of all different colors and abstract shapes. Even from this distance the roar of the party goers celebrating the fall of Lord Voldemort could be heard. She didn't even want to think about how bloody loud it had been back in the Great Hall.

When she had left the castle, Harry had been surrounded by well-wishers and tearful students, teachers, parents and ministry workers all vying to shake his hand and express their undying gratefulness for ensuring that the Dark Lord was no more a part of the wizarding world and that their children would be safe from living in a world where he was king.

Hermione sighed. She was glad that Voldemort was no more. Was glad that Harry had dealt him a killing stroke with the Elder Wand. Was glad that she had played her role in bringing that about. Was glad that most of them had made it out safe and sound.

But it was over now. After so many years, the Dark Lord was indeed gone, and Hermione found herself strangely empty.

It wasn't like she wanted the Dark Lord to come back. Merlin no, but she couldn't help but think of all the people they had lost in the fighting. Cedric, Sirius, Professor Lupin, Fred, Tonks, the many students of Hogwarts who would never again board the train to come to their great school and worst of all her parents and Albus Dumbledore, their greatest proponent, mentor and friend.

Sure, by the time they had managed to escape from the clutches of Bellatrix Lestrange, Hermione had begun to think less and less of the crotchety old wizard for withholding the many secrets that he did and deliberately keeping Hermione and her friends in the dark. There were times when she wanted to weep because she knew she would miss him sitting up there at the head table smiling his grandfatherly smile, ready to dispense his wisdom on anyone who asked.

But there were also times when she wanted to curse him because she believed his reticence had almost proven their undoing. The old man had played with his cards close to his chest believing that the only person he could trust was himself.

There were times when Hermione believed that if he had just done things a little bit differently, if he had chosen to go an alternate route instead of this blasted Russian roulette with Voldemort, then maybe…..just maybe not as many people would have died. In fact maybe Dumbledore himself wouldn't have died and the war would have been over that much more quickly.

And maybe she wouldn't have had to say goodbye to her parents in order to keep them safe. That's what hurt the most, knowing that they were safe, but that she could never see them again.

But it wouldn't do to keep thinking like this, after all the war was over. That was something that Hermione wouldn't have wished differently. No matter the way it had happened, Voldemort was dead and that was something worth celebrating.

Except she didn't feel like celebrating. The fireworks rising over Hogwarts belied the sharp bitter sweet feeling over the whole castle, which was one of exhausted sorrowful relief that it was over.

Hermione quickened her stride towards the Forbidden Forest. She was only twenty feet away from it now and the nearer she got, the trees began to move in closer and loom toward her. The deep brown of the oaks and beeches seemed to become an ashy grey, and the branches that occupied individual spaces on the trees, with their own elegant lines and curves seemed more twisted and hard, reaching out toward her like talons or the bony fingers of a hag. The grass was dead and black beneath the spreading branches of the trees which offered the floor of the forest barely any light in the day time. No light could be seen between the trees only blackness, and Hermione shivered when she remembered that earlier today it had been used as a hideout for the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters.

Hermione shuddered and shook her head. That was ridiculous, there was nothing to be afraid of. The only thing that she had feared had been killed in the castle hours ago by the hand of her best friend.

She glanced down at the small satchel she was carrying, which held a few spare changes of clothes, her wand, some books, including the Tales of Beedle the Bard, gifted to her by Dumbledore himself in his will. The only other thing she carried was some money from her trust vault at Gringotts and all the savings she had received from her parents, as well as the tent that she Ron and Harry had slept in when they had been on the run from Lord Voldement.

Was Hermione Granger running away?

_No, _she thought stalwartly as she finally reached the edge of the Forest and paused. _I'm not running away, I just need a break. No one could blame me. Besides it's not like I can go home and pretend all is fine and dandy when it's not. I can't just go back to Hogwarts and do my seventh and final year with Ron and Harry and act we just didn't fight a war and lose a ridiculous amount of people. It's not like the three of us will be able to live happily ever after. I'm not even sure that's what I want and Merlin knows, I don't think it's what Harry and Ron want either. Ron just lost his brother for Merlin's sake. No, the three of us just need some time to ourselves. I'm not running away…I'm not. Hermione Granger doesn't run away from her problems but a much needed break would be just what the doctor ordered._

She paused at the entrance to the forest, absently placing a hand on the rough knurled trunk of a beech tree as she turned back to say goodbye to one of her most favourite places in the world.

Hogwarts was lit up with lights and the sounds of laughter and all around feast noises in the Great Hall could be heard for miles. The castle looked incredibly picturesque in the twilight as the moon rose, casting its silver rays across the lake that was still as glass. The stone turrets and some of the walls were broken down because of the battle earlier and the smoke was still rising from where the fires had recently been put out, and ash, even from this distance was still heavy on the air.

Hermione sighed as she cast her gaze one final time at the place where she had been the happiest. In her mind, she whispered goodbye to Harry, Ron, the Weasleys, Neville, her Gryffindor friends and her parents.

But she wasn't running away.

Hermione just needed a break. She didn't even know if she wanted to pursue a career in magic anymore. She needed to know if she should even cast spells anymore or forsake magic altogether and live life as a muggle. They were all things she needed to consider.

But make no mistake, the brightest witch of our age was NOT running away.

Hermione turned away from the view of the castle and wiped hard at the tears that pricked at her eyes. There was no need to cry. She wasn't saying goodbye. Pulling at the cords on her cloak, Hermione tucked her long brown hair into her hood and tugged it up over her head. It was a cool night and she didn't want to catch her death.

But just as she put a foot inside the trees and took one step on her journey of self-discovery, (which by the way was not running away) a voice lacking its usual sarcastic bite and syrupy arrogance said:

"Just where are you going Granger?"

After the battle of the century with Lord Voldemort, Hermione didn't think that there was anything that could surprise her anymore. She was wrong.

She jumped and let out a small squeak that was completely out of character and must have sounded like it, because a sarcastic smirk was slowly spreading across the face of the young man with the pale blond hair who stepped out of the trees a few feet away from her.

As soon as Hermione registered who it was, she growled quietly deep in her throat. Great, just what she needed. Just as she was about to make a hasty exit from the wizarding world for a well-deserved break, _he _turned up.

"What do you want Draco?" she hissed through barely parted teeth. Out of all the wizards she had thought she would never see again and hoped that she would never see again, Draco Malfoy made the top of the bloody list.

He was arrogant, condescending and so full of hot air that it was a wonder he hadn't exploded from it yet. He was also a pureblood wizard and he had never failed to let Hermione remember that she was Muggle born and therefore beneath him. Not to mention the fact that he was from a well-known Death Eater family and whose father Lucius had been a somewhat active part of the losing side.

After the battle, the Malfoys disappeared somewhere, probably to hide. Their son was after all the one who had had a hand in the death of Albus Dumbledore, even if it was Professor Snape who had done the deed.

The blonde Slytherin folded his arms across his broad chest and looked her up and down carefully. Hermione had to fight the urge to squirm. She hated that Draco had a way of making her feel small and insignificant. Then she raised her chin after a few seconds of looking at the ground. He didn't have a hold on her anymore.

"I wanted some air. The festivities were starting to give me a headache," he replied, looking toward the fireworks rising from the castle.

"I thought you had slipped away to hide."

Draco turned to her, an eyebrow raised. "Hide? Granger I'm a Malfoy, we don't hide even when we've lost."

The second of Hermione's eyebrows joined the first up near her hairline. "When you've lost? You can't honestly expect me to believe that you wanted Voldemort to succeed and turn the entire wizarding world on its head. That you would have wanted to him to exterminate any witch or wizard that he didn't deem up to snuff. That you would have wanted-"

"Don't tell me what I want Granger," Draco snapped cutting her off, and Hermione took a step back, stunned. Draco saw the look on her face, and ran a hand through his pale hair in frustration before he leaned his back against the oak tree Hermione herself was leaning against.

"I don't know what I want," he continued quietly. "I don't know what I wanted then and I don't know what I want now."

Hermione gazed away from him and back to castle. Draco Malfoy sounded as exhausted as she was.

"Neither do I," she replied softly. She didn't notice the quick look the blonde sent her, it was almost empathetic.

They stood quietly for a moment, watching as the fireworks went off and the sky was lit with bright vivid colours.

Hermione bit her lip trying not to feel awkward as she and Draco stood side by side. This was the first somewhat civil confrontation they had ever had, and she didn't know what to do with it. After another minute though, he turned to her again.

"You didn't answer my question though. Where are you going?" Hermione hesitated a minute before looking up at him. Along with his tone of voice, his eyes lacked the pompous sparkle and overbold persona of a spoiled little prince that he had worn like a shield for most of their Hogwarts years.

Hermione had sometimes wondered about that shield he wore and what he might be hiding underneath. But then he had done something completely idiotic and she had forgotten about it altogether.

She sighed, might as well tell him, it's not like anyone else was around to record this conversation and blackmail her with it later.

"I'm leaving," she replied simply. Draco's eyebrows shot up again and the sarcastic smirk that made Hermione want to clock him one had returned.

"Is Hermione Granger, the brightest witch of our age, running away?" That was it. Hermione dropped her back and stepped right up to him.

"No! Merlin, why does everyone think that I'm running away?! We've just won an enormous battle, Voldemort is dead, this is a time for celebration, why on earth would you think I'm running away?!"

Draco's eyes widened and he took a step back, hands raised in a defensive gesture. "Whoa, okay, there's no need to get feisty I was just asking."

Hermione took a deep breath and closed her eyes in an attempt to calm herself down. "I'm not running away," she replied again, this time more calmly. "I just need a break."

Draco was quiet for a minute which surprised her. She had half expected him to make fun of her plan, something he always did and which she was used to.

"Where will you go?" he asked quietly. Hermione looked at him curiously. He was different. Something had changed about him in the last few years and she wasn't sure what. He seemed a little quieter, less arrogant and her stereotypes about him were starting to change.

"I don't know," she responded equally softly. "I just need to get away from here. Away from any memory of Voldemort and death."

Draco eyed her curiously. "You just killed him Granger, wouldn't you want to bask in your success?"

"In case you have forgotten, Harry was the one to do that. I merely helped and did what I could."

"You're not jealous are you? Jealous that Potter was the one to deal the killing stroke?" Hermione stared at him as if he had just announced that he was the reincarnation of Lord Voldemort.

"Have you lost your mind Draco? I don't care whether a wand dealt the killing stroke, or whether Voldemort slipped on ice and bashed his head in. He's dead and that's all that matters."

"Then why are you leaving?"

The question caught her off guard, especially because he was the one who had asked it. Hermione knew that she had valid reasons for leaving, but she also didn't want to feel like she had to justify them to anyone, least of all Draco Malfoy. So she kept her answer vague.

"There's nothing here for me anymore. I can't go back and I can't go forward. So I'm making my own road." Her words were final and he must have seen it in her face because he said nothing, which surprised her yet again.

"Well good luck."

Hermione blinked. "That's it? No, teasing, no calling my plan the harebrained escape route of a halfwit mud blood?" She winced as she said the word because she had been called that before and it wasn't a term one often heard in polite conversation. So she was surprised even further when Draco winced when she said it too.

"No, you've made up your mind, who am I to stop you?" Hermione was having trouble believing her ears. She looked at the blonde Slytherin who was still leaning with his back against the tree at the edge of the forest.

"What will you do Draco?" she asked, suddenly feeling curious. The Slytherin sighed, more out of exhaustion then frustration.

He reached beneath the folds of his dark coat and pulled out a small bag about the size of hers. Hermione stared at it for a full minute before she realized what it meant and what he was doing.

"No." She said, "Is the infamous Draco Malfoy leaving the wizarding world as well?" The blonde rubbed the side of his face. It….it almost looked like he was trying to suppress a smile, but Hermione dismissed the notion a second later as a trick of the light.

"Well, I don't think it would be a good idea to be around wizards for right now given the Malfoy reputation and all, so I thought I'd try my luck elsewhere."

"I thought you thrived on the Malfoy reputation," Hermione countered. Draco's pale face instantly cleared of any emotion.

"Yeah, well look where it's gotten us. What if I don't want to be known by the name of Malfoy anymore? What if I wanted to do something else?"

Hermione was amazed, this was not the Draco Malfoy that she remembered and despised. It would seem that the fall of the Dark Lord had changed a lot of people, including the ones that were completely unexpected.

"So where will you go?" she asked curiously as she reached down and retrieved her bag from where it had fallen. Draco shrugged and kicked at a rock near his foot.

"I don't know, but away from here would be a good place to start at least." Hermione cocked her head to one side as she looked at him. "What will your parents say?" she asked.

Draco raised an eyebrow. "My father will likely say nothing. He's already disappeared. Hiding from the Ministry most likely. He'll lay low for the next decade or so. Anything to avoic being sent to Azkaban."

"And your mother?"

"Will most likely stay with relatives. She'll never be able to regain her former reputation as Lady Malfoy, but I don't care as long as she's safe."

"But what will she say when she finds out you've left?" Hermione asked. Draco scoffed, sounding much like the arrogant pureblood she knew before, but he didn't meet her eyes.

"She already knows," he replied. "In fact she thinks it's a good idea."

"Well alright then," she muttered half to herself and half out loud. This had been a thoroughly bizarre and enlightening conversation. She pulled the hood of her cloak up again so her face was somewhat veiled in shadow before she gave Draco Malfoy a small smile.

"I suppose I should I should be off then. I hope you find what you're looking for Draco," she said. _Merlin knows we both need it._

Hermione turned and was about to disappear among the dark trees of the wood and Draco called out, "Wait a minute."

She turned. "Yes?"

"You're going through the Forbidden Forest?" Hermione looked at him as if that had been obvious. "Yes, it's the only guarantee I have that no one will come after me."

"You know that there are trolls and giant spiders, and other things in this place right? I mean it's called the Forbidden Forest for a reason."

Hermione raised an eyebrow at him. "Yes, and it's also teeming with adventures that have nothing to do with the wizarding world." Draco sighed and rolled his eyes.

"Why are all Gryffindor's so bullheaded and naïve?" Hermione folded her arms across her chest and gave him a look.

"Probably for the same reason that all Slytherins are so arrogant and full of themselves," she countered. Draco sighed and ran a hand through his neat blonde hair which now that she thought about it wasn't so neat. It had grown slightly longer and little more unruly in the past few years.

"Fine, but if you're going to break your neck and or become food for the giant eight legged monsters that inhabit this godforsaken wood, then would you at least let me help you get to the other side?"

Hermione nearly tripped on the root she had stepped over in surprise. Now she had seen everything. She turned and looked back at the blonde wizard.

"Since when did Draco Malfoy become a gentleman, and dare I say it somewhat charming?" she asked, her tone slightly teasing but trying to mask the tremendous incredulity she was feeling. Draco puffed out his chest in indignation.

"I've always been a gentlemen. Not my fault you didn't see it." Hermione felt her lips tug upwards ever so slightly. The wizard she thought she despised most in the world was offering to escort her to the other side of the wood so she wouldn't put herself in danger. She was beyond shocked.

Which was why she felt her astonishment spike when she heard herself say to him: "Alright let's go."

Draco gave a sharp nod, buttoned up his coat and moved to join her, and together the witch and wizard started into the Forbidden Forest.

Ω

For a few minutes, no one said anything as they walked. Hermione found the silence surprisingly comfortable. The only sound that could be heard was the soft crunch of the dry grass beneath their feet as witch and wizard moved among the trees.

As soon as they entered the forest, the moonlight was almost cut off completely. Instead the trees and their branches cast eerie shadows on the ground, causing an interesting mosaic to appear on the forest floor consisting of light and dark. The scent of dead leaves was heavy on the night air and smell of earth was almost overpowering.

Hermione swallowed hard and looked around nervously. Seeing that Draco was watching her, she worked hard to rearrange her features in an expressionless mask.

Despite how…..decent he was being, he was still Draco Malfoy and that was something she wouldn't forget for a minute.

After about an hour of walking, and seeing absolutely nothing but trees and hearing nothing but the wind whistling through the pines, Hermione decided to speak up.

"I wonder how far this bloody forest goes," she mused. Draco snorted next to her. "I'd wager it goes all the way back to the London station."

They went quiet again and Hermione searched for something to say. Even though it was cool outside, she was starting to feel warm from all the walking. The witch pushed back the hood of her cloak and let her long brown hair hang loose.

"So Granger, just how long will this sabbatical of yours be?" the blonde walking next to her asked. Hermione mused to herself, running a hand through her long brown hair as she thought.

"I don't know," she replied. "Long enough that I can be sure that magic is something that I want to continue with." Draco reeled back as if stunned.

"You would give up magic forever to live among muggles?" he asked in a hushed tone as if the idea had truly shaken. Hermione decided to ignore the theatrics.

"It's a possibility," she replied calmly. "I am muggle born after, I do know how to do it." Her words came out sounding a bit harsh and she winced. But Draco didn't seem to notice, the idea of living without magic was an idea he had never considered.

"Do you honestly think you'd be happy living that kind of life?" he asked. His tone wasn't condescending. He sounded like he truly wanted to know.

"Why wouldn't I be?" the witch countered. "My parents have been doing it for over thirty years and their perfectly happy. I tried the magic route, and look what came of that. It seems like magic incites an even bigger desire for power then muggles have. Wouldn't it be safer as one of them?"

Draco was quiet for a long time, considering that. The truth was, Hermione had a point. Life as a muggle would be a lot simpler. Having no magic might in fact be a safer route. He didn't like to think of what might have happened if Harry hadn't killed Voldemort. What kind of world would they live in?

It was an idea that he had also considered in the deepest recesses of his mind. He had just been shocked to find out that someone else was thinking the same thing. But giving up magic? He had absolutely no idea how one would go about living like that.

Potter and Granger had seemed to manage it just fine. He had often mocked them for living with muggles and associating with people who were beneath the magical community. But were they really?

Were muggles really behind wizards? And if they weren't would life as one of them truly be so bad?

These were all questions Draco didn't really want to have to answer, because he was afraid of the conclusions he might come to.

The blonde absently raised a hand to his forehead to wipe away the sweat from it. The forest had suddenly become very hot.

"The trees are so close in here, they block out any breeze from passing through, so it gets really warm," Hermione said noticing his discomforted look, because she rubbing at her own forehead.

"Thank you for the explanation Granger," Draco said curtly. Hermione had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. There was the Draco she knew and disliked.

But she couldn't deny that the heat was getting to her too. It had been quite cool outside of the forest, but now she could feel the sweat rolling down her back. What she would give for a drink of water!

The forest seemed to take advantage of her momentary distraction, because suddenly a root appeared in front of her left foot. She stumbled and would've pitched headlong into the rough grass on the forest floor if Draco had leapt to her side and caught her around the waist.

For a moment, there was only heavy breathing as the two of them steadied themselves. Hermione was painfully aware that Draco's arms were still locked around her waist.

"Are you alright?" The blonde Slytherin asked somewhat carefully. Hermione had to swallow a few times before she trusted herself to be able to answer. The shock had stolen the breath from her lungs and the heat was still sapping the oxygen from the air, which made it difficult to respond.

"Yes, yes, thank you Draco," she murmured absently and quickly stepped away from him. It was then that she noticed that they had entered a clearing.

The trees were arranged in a perfect circle about ten feet apart and evenly spaced. They all appeared about the same height and same species of knurled beech. Their branches were twisted and rough reaching up towards the sky and meeting about fifteen feet up in a dome sort of formation.

Hermione could just make out the faint light of the moon high overhead casting a thin silvery glow, more like a spotlight down into the clearing and upon the heads of the two teens.

It was then that Hermione noticed the pool.

About ten feet in front of her and Draco, was a pool about fifteen feet wide. But one could see right away that this was no ordinary body of water. It was in the same perfect spherical shape that the circle of trees embodied and it was completely still. Most pools, lakes, ponds and other bodies of water would at least exhibit an occasional ripple as a breath of air would pass across its surface. But not this pool.

It was so still it appeared like liquid silver. No plants grew around the edge of the water and it seemed so deep just from first appearances that Hermione wouldn't have been surprised if it was bottomless. Every so often, little flashes of light would flicker off the surfaces of the pool, but the young witch knew that it wasn't from the moon's light because the silver spotlight from said light was shining in a different part of the clearing.

"What…..what is this?" Draco asked nervously. His question didn't receive an answer as Hermione was gazing carefully at the pool. She was having the strangest feeling that she had seen it before, even though she had never been in this part of the Forbidden Forest before.

The trees towered above the two teens and the roots rose above the ground as high as their heads, which were all shades of earthy brown, ash grey and smoky black. Evergreen vines were wrapped around the roots of the trees which had begun to protrude out of the ground higher and higher as the Slytherin and Gryffindor had made their way further and further into the wood.

Draco glanced around nervously. This was not what he had bargained for. But that was what you got when you went into the Forbidden Forest at night.

"Come on Hermione, we should probably get out of her," he said. But again, Hermione didn't answer.

"Granger, did you hear me? We need to get out of here now," Draco said again, this time a bit more harshly. Finally, the brunette witch glanced up at him and he was amazed to see that her face was completely calm.

"Actually Draco, I think we should stop here for the night."

The blonde Slytherin stared at her as if she had grown horns out of her head. "Are you bloody mad Granger? This whole place screams of danger. We should never have come this way in the first place. We're asking for trouble if we stay here for the night."

Hermione still looked irritatingly calm. "And we'll be safe if we continue going? Draco look at it this way. We're exhausted, it's late at night and if we keep walking through the forest, we're either going to drop from exhaustion or have to find a place to spend the night anyway."

"So what do you propose we do then?" Draco asked folding his arms across his chest and looking at her somewhat testily. "We lay out the sleeping bags and have a camp out right here where all the monsters in this forest can bite off a piece of us in the night?" His tone had risen slightly, but he sounded more frustrated than angry.

Instead of answering, Hermione reached into her back and pulled out the magically shrunken tent she had made sure to bring with her. Without saying anything, she laid it out on the ground and tapped it with her wand.

Instantly, the structure expanded to form the familiar material covered domicile she was so familiar with when she and her two friends had been on the run from Voldemort.

Draco scoffed as he looked at it. "That's what we're going to be staying in? Granger that's not going to stop all the wild animals from getting to us."

"No," Hermione said, pulling her wand from the depths of her bag and strode away to the circle of trees that bordered the clearing as Draco watched in exasperated disbelief.

"But this might," she said and threw up a few wards around the clearing which effectively made them invisible to the surrounding animal life, and silenced any noises they might make as well.

"Oh, I feel so much better as well now," the blonde Slytherin quipped sarcastically. Hermione suppressed a sigh and whirled to face him.

"If you wish to leave Draco, there's nothing stopping you. You don't owe me anything and Merlin knows I don't owe you anything either. You can apparate out of here. The only reason I didn't is because the Ministry is still tracking the whereabouts of myself, Ron and Harry since we've been on the run. You don't need to do me any favors. Go now if that's what you wish."

The wizard stared at her for a few seconds, his expression unreadable. Then he reached down and picked up his bag, drawing his wand from it in one smooth motion.

"I believe I will do just that," he said quietly. "Goodbye Granger." Then which a flick of his wand there was a tremendous crack and a flash of light, and Draco Malfoy disappeared.

Hermione stared at the space where he had been a second earlier and sighed. She ought to feel nothing, glad even that he had left. After all, she had never gotten along well with Draco Malfoy and his presence had been a constant irritation to her, why should she feel lacking if he left?

But the truth is, she did feel a little empty. She had grown used to his company over the past few hours and even if everything around her was changing, the attitude of Draco Malfoy was a constant that she always knew she could count on for any situation to feel somewhat normal. It was crazy, but it was true.

Hermione sighed and shook her head. No matter thinking about that. He was gone, she had known he would leave anyway. He said he was going to the minute he reached the edge of the Forbidden Forest. She was just saying goodbye a little bit ahead of schedule that was all.

Then she determined that she would think no more about it. It was time to get some well-deserved rest before she continued her journey in the morning. She pushed aside the tent flap and entered the structure.

It was just like she remembered it. The small bunk beds arranged in exactly the same fashion. It wasn't a particularly enormous tent, but it would serve her purposes just fine.

Without allowing herself to think of the sudden departure of her traveling companion, Hermione quickly dressed in her sleeping clothes, got into bed and pulled the sheets up to her chin.

Then she shut her eyes and tried not to think of the life she had left behind.

Ω

The train station was busy even at this time of night. The ticket handlers and baggage carriers were rushing madly about. People with trolleys were hurrying this way and that, trying to get to their destination without a moment's delay.

Everyone was so busy that no one noticed the handsome young man with the pale blonde hair seated in one of the chairs by the windows.

He wasn't watching anyone or making eye contact with the passersby, rather he was looking down into his hands were his wand rested. There was a small bag at his feet that suggested he was going away for a weekend. No one would have suspected that the young man was leaving his entire life behind.

Draco sighed and ran his hands through his hair.

_She'll be fine,_ he thought to himself_, the wards she put up will protect her, and even if some monstrous bastard gets past them, Granger's the brightest witch at Hogwarts, she'll be able to get away if something bad were to happen.  
><em> _Yeah, but she shouldn't have to do that. You offered to help her get to the other side of the forest and then you broke your promise and left her. If something happens to her it'll be your fault, not hers.  
><em> Draco cursed under his breath. Since when did he start developing a conscience?  
>Since he began to realize just how crazy Voldemort was and that he wanted nothing to do with the dark lord. Since he realized how relieved he was that Potter had killed off the mad man. Since he realized that he could make a name for himself outside of the title of Malfoy.<br>That was something he was most looking forward to. Going to a place where no one knew him and the Malfoy Death Eater reputation wasn't hanging over his head. Just thinking about how freeing that would be made the blonde's chest tighten. He could practice his magic and become an accomplished wizard, make a name for himself. People would accept him for him and not because of how much money was in their vault at Gringotts, or who his father was. His life would be his own.  
><em>Fine way to start your new life huh? With the death of an innocent girl on your conscience?<em>  
>"Shut up!" Draco hissed aloud, earning him the stares of a few curious travellers. He ignored them and clenched his fists in his lap as he argued with himself.<br>_Nothing's going to happen, she'll spend the night in the forest and be out of it the next day. No monster is gonna get to her._  
><em> You hope,<em> his conscience replied sounding suspiciously smug and Draco had to suppress the urge to pull at his hair which was already messy enough.  
>Why had he ever offered to walk her to the other side of the forest in the bloody first place?! Hermione had looked shocked when he had asked and in truth Draco was just as surprised at himself as she was. He had no idea where the words had come from and they were out before he could stop himself.<br>His feelings toward Hermione's Granger were confusing. He wasn't hostile toward her like he used to be and he had often been envious of her magical ability. It was true, she was exceptionally bright. But the more that he thought about it, the more he realized that the reason he had offered to accompany her was because he was a little envious of her friendship with Potter and Weasley. He had spent his school years, slumming with Goyle and Crabbe, people he had begun to realize only hung around him to feed off of his reputation, and who actually had no personality of their own.  
>Draco had had enough of their simplistic monotone answers, and static personalities, he wanted more. Which was another reason why he had left.<br>He couldn't even explain the relief he had felt being out of sight of Hogwarts, but the minute things began to get a bit difficult, he had bailed out and resorted back to his old habits which had begun to thoroughly disgust him.  
>He took a deep breath and ran his hands through his hair. This was going to be a long night.<p>

Ω

Hermione rolled over and punched her pillow intending to beat it into submission. She flopped down again and let out a big sigh. This was ridiculous, she hadn't had this much trouble sleeping since they had been on the run from Voldemort.  
>Maybe it was this tent, maybe it was cursed. There were some not so good memories she had of this place. Being dragged from it by the Death Eaters and subjected to the Cruciatus Curse by Bellatrix Lestrange.<br>Hermione shuddered. Don't think like that, she chastised herself. Bellatrix is dead. Mrs. Weasley killed her.  
>Still it would be nice to have some company to ward off the unpleasant memories. Her thoughts drifted back to Draco. She wanted to curse his stubbornness. She had begun to think he had changed, but he had just demonstrated that he was still as much a Malfoy as he had ever been.<br>She'd meant what she'd said. Neither of them owed each other anything. He didn't have to stay and see her to the other side of the forest. She had told him that.  
>Still...the company had been nice. Hermione knew they probably wouldn't have parted as friends. But maybe being seen by Draco as an equal would have been nice.<br>She sighed and rolled over again, flopping onto her stomach and resting her chin on her crossed arms. Sleep was doing its best to elude her. She couldn't get thoughts of what would happen when she crossed the threshold of the forest and started her own life out of her mind. What would she do? Where would she go? Would magic be a part of her future or not?  
>But most of all the question of her happiness bothered her the most. Would she like the life she had chosen for herself? And after it was over would she, could she be able to go back?<br>So many questions and zero answers. It was Hermione's biggest pet peeve. Asking a million questions but not knowing the answers to any of them. It was also one of the things that she thought to be the most frightening thing about this new life.  
>Fed up, she sat up and threw back the blanket. Hermione leaned over resting her elbows on her knees and covered her face with her hands in exhaustion. She was so mentally and emotionally tired, yet sleep seemed to be taunting her, ever just out of reach.<br>All she wanted was some peace. _Was that too much to ask for?_ She thought furiously. Was it really so difficult that she be left alone? That she be free to pursue her own peace and tranquility?  
>Just then a sound just outside the tent flap made her jump. Hermione flinched when it came again. It sounded suspiciously like a call of a bird, but it was like no bird she had ever heard before. She frowned as she tried to place it. It had the rasping caw of an animal that had been places, but a soft coo that sounded incredibly enticing. It was almost like the bird was trying to persuade her without words to come out.<br>Hermione's slowly reached down into her bag and felt around until she felt the familiar handle of her wand. She drew it out and gripped it tightly between her fingers.  
>The bird called again and Hermione got to her feet. This time the call was softer, it's cry almost gentle but still enticing and Hermione felt Goosebumps rise on her skin. The desire to step outside the tent and see what this animal was calling her for was becoming stronger than ever.<br>But as much as she wanted to see what was outside, Hermione Granger was no fool. She knew that to leave the tent without her wand would be a grave error that might cost her dearly.  
>She dressed quickly, and threw her long dark red cloak over her shoulders. She didn't put her hood up, but left her hair out and hanging long. She picked up her bag and gripped the handle tightly. If she had to break camp, she could leave the tent behind and conjure up something for herself to stay in.<br>Then slowly, tentatively, gingerly, Hermione pushed the tent flap aside and stepped out.  
>As she expected, there was no one there. But she still sighed with relief anyway. The thin sliver of moonlight was still slicing its way through the trees high above her. Nothing moved in the shadows beyond the outer circle, and the pool was still as calm as glass.<br>But Hermione didn't relax completely. Her senses were telling her that something wasn't right, and when she didn't feel right, usually something was wrong.  
>All of a sudden, the bird called again and Hermione jerked around looking for the source of the sound. Her eyes darted this way and that throughout the clearing. But she saw nothing.<br>Just as she was about to dismiss the sound as a trick of the wind and go back to bed, it happened again, this time much closer to her. Hermione stiffened and raised her wand, trying to still the slight trembling in her hands.  
>But just as she turned back around, the flutter of wings caught her attention. Hermione turned and caught sight of a beautiful bird. It had been roosting in one of the trees directly in front of the young witch.<br>Now it flew down directly toward the pond and landed on a round green silky looking lily pad in the center of the pond. Hermione blinked in surprise. The last time she had looked at the pond, it was completely empty but now a lone lily pad had appeared.

The bird cocked its head at her and Hermione caught her breath. It was one of the most people animals she had ever seen. She had always been envious of Hedwig, Harry's beautiful snowy white owl. Crookshanks had been a decent pet, but she had always wanted her own bird. The cat had caused a bit of trouble between her and wrong, because the enormous ginger fur all seemed to have a predisposition for Ron's rat Scabbers. Of course Scabbers turned out to be an escaped criminal, but did Ron express any gratitude for her cat unveiling the criminal? No.  
>Hermione shook her head, clearing it from the distractions of her former life before she began to feel nostalgic. The bird was still looking at her, its head cocked to one side. Hermione blinked and did a double take when she realized that the bird's irises were completely gold. Hermione had to rub her eyes to convince herself that she wasn't seeing things.<br>The bird was snowy white and it was as large if not larger then Hedwig. It slowly almost deliberately blinked at her. It raised its wings slowly and Hermione gasped quietly when she saw that almost every feather was gold. Its body was as white as fresh fallen snow and every feather on its wings was royal gold.  
>Curious, Hermione lowered her wand and slowly approached the edge of the pond, although the closer she got to it, it appeared more like a man made pool. It was just too round to have formed naturally.<br>Every sense inside of her was screaming to take caution but she wasn't about to go into the water, she just wanted a batter look at the beautiful bird and to maybe see if it was the one who had called her.  
>As she reached the edge of the pond, the bird cocked its head at her again. Then it opened its beak and let loose the same sound that she had heard inside the tent. Instead this time, it appeared more musical and lighter in tone to the point where it sounded almost like a music box. There was a smooth consistency to it and could've lulled her to sleep. But there was also a deep tone to its call that was enticing as much as it was musical.<br>Hermione settled down onto her knees and hesitantly reached out a hand, wondering if this beautiful animal belonged to one of Hogwarts students. As she stretched out her hand, Hermione kept eye contact with the bird and it didn't look away from her either. Thankfully the pool wasn't too big otherwise Hermione might have lost her balance.  
>As soon as her fingers were a few inches from the bird, it leapt from the lily pad onto her outstretched hand and cooed softly again. Slowly Hermione brought her hand back towards her but the bird didn't move.<br>"Hello there," she whispered to the bird. "Who do you belong to?"  
>Hermione carefully began to stroke its feathers, eyes widening when she realized they were softer than anything she had ever felt. It literally felt like she was running her fingers through silk. The bird cooed softly as she continued stroking its feathers.<br>"Where did you come from?" She asked curiously. All of a sudden the bird turned back to the pool and flew off her hand almost faster than the eye could follow.  
>Unfortunately as it launched itself off her finger, it seemed to grow heavier in weight, so it pushed her unbalanced side down causing her to become off balance.<br>Hermione waved her arms as she tried to regain her balance, but it was useless at this point, she only had time to register that she was going to fall, before she plunged headlong into the water, and the cold took the breath out of her lungs.  
>Her next sensation was one of the water closing over her head. She tried to move her arms to swim to the surface, but her limbs were as heavy as lead. Her mouth tried to form words to a spell that would save her, but her outer extremities were already frozen. Her mind tried to think of a spell she could use instead, but her mind seemed as frozen as her arms and legs. There was only white noise filling her head, and she could barely feel the wand still gripped between her fingers.<br>She glanced down, hoping to see the bottom so maybe she could push off of it and make her way back to the top.  
>But there was nothing there, and Hermione knew with a terrible certainly that she was drowning.<p>

Ω

Draco wasn't sitting any longer.  
>The blonde had gotten up and was now pacing the floor, trying to decide what to do. The train out of London was the one he wanted to get on and it was about to leave in the next five minutes, with or without him.<br>The Slytherin bit his lip, watching the minute hand on the clock move steadily toward the time when he would have to make a decision. Either to get on the train and get out of London and away from Hogwarts for good or to go back to the Forbidden Forest and fulfill his word to Hermione.  
>He had been sitting in the train station for the past hour trying to make a decision. It was driving him nuts. His old nature that was driven on self-preservation was telling him to get out of London before anyone unsavory came after him. But the other newer part of him was saying that he had given his word, and that he needed to see it through.<br>He sighed, but it came out sounding more like a growl causing a few odd looks to be cast his way. He quickly ducked his head and kept pacing.  
>He wanted to get out of London as fast as possible, but he knew if he did without making sure that Hermione was alright, it would bother him for a long time and he would never be able to remember his escape from the wizarding world without remembering how it had started with a broken promise.<br>That was it, he knew what he had to do. Draco snarled and picked up his bag, cursing himself for making such a promise and cursing Hermione for whatever trouble she might have gotten herself into.  
>He pulled out his wand and quickly checked around to make sure no one was watching before he hurried to a secluded corner by the men's bathroom and whispered the words that would apparate him out of the train station.<br>There was an enormous crack and a bright flash of light and Draco had the odd sensation of being stretched.  
><em>I'll just see her to the edge of the forest, apparate her there myself if I have to, and then I'll get the hell out of here and away from London for good.<em>  
>With this in mind, he blinked as the flash died and he stepped out into the quiet of the Forbidden Forest. He glanced around looking for Hermione but saw nothing but the tent in the same spot where Hermione had set it up.<br>Seeing nothing, he was about to call out for her when suddenly a dark shape materialized by the pool. Draco blinked in surprise and was about to pull his wand when he recognized the small form of Hermione. A strange but beautiful bird was sitting on her outstretched hand.  
>Draco frowned in confusion and was about to call out her name again when just then, the bird on her hand flew away and the blonde's eyes widened when all of a sudden, she lost her balance and tumbled headlong into the water.<br>Draco cursed out loud, and took off toward the pool as fast as possible. He had forgotten about the wards Hermione had set up because he ran right into one and was blasted back into the tree behind him.  
>His head cracked against the wood and he blinked, feeling dazed and seeing stars. He somehow got to his feet cursing and trying to get his breathe back.<br>Damn those wards. Granger was good, they were pretty solid. It took some pretty fancy magic to get around them, but Draco was a Slytherin and if there was one thing that hadn't changed about him since the fall of Voldemort it was his confidence.  
>After about thirty seconds, he managed to take them down and sprinted for the pool's edge.<br>As soon as he reached it, he looked around desperately expecting to see Hermione resurfacing, but to his horror the surface of the pond had become smooth as glass again. Hermione had disappeared.  
>"Hermione!" He yelled, surprising himself at the desperation in his voice. He looked around wildly before yelling her name again and receiving no answer.<br>Draco snarled out a curse and stripped off his coat, depositing it on the ground beside him. Before he could talk himself out of it and holding nothing else but his wand, he dove into the water.  
>As soon as the water closed over his head, Draco blinked and took in the scene before him. What he had first thought was a shallow body of water was actually very deep. So deep in fact, that he couldn't see the bottom. The water was dark and so cold it almost stole the breath from his lungs. He could barely see through it. His limbs began to feel as heavy as stone and he had to remind himself not to panic.<br>Then all of a sudden, not too far below him, a dark shape materialized. Draco flinched and started to try and swim away from it before he realized that it wasn't moving and he saw that it was Hermione. Her long brown hair was waving in the water like an exotic sea plant and Draco nearly stiffened in terror when he saw that her eyes were open but she wasn't seeing anything. He could tell from her rigid form that the water had almost succeeded in drowning her.  
>Draco tried swimming toward her but it was like he was moving through molasses. Finally though he was rewarded when he felt her frozen stiff fingers slide through his.<br>Quickly, he latched onto her hand and tried swimming to the surface. With Hermione as an almost dead weight however, the task became impossible and Draco knew if he didn't do something soon, they were both going to drown.  
>He gripped his wand as he tried to think of a spell that would save them, but with the cold water, the exhaustion he was feeling and the complete disorientation in his surroundings, Draco might as well have been playing Quidditch while blindfolded.<p>

Just then, a sudden bright light made the blonde look down. Even though he couldn't see the bottom, a white light was illuminating the water beneath them, getting steadily brighter and stronger with every second.  
>By this time, Draco was exhausted and confused and he knew that he and Hermione were out of time. At least he would die in a world where Voldemort didn't exist.<br>The last sensation that Draco Malfoy had was the white light searing his eyes, a deafening concussion and the feel of Hermione's hand in his own before he blacked out.

Ω

Outside the pool, the forest was still quiet. The only sign of life that could be seen was a beautiful snowy white bird with golden wings sitting in one of the branches of a nearby tree.  
>It turned and glanced up at the silver of light that the moon was giving off and somehow lighting directly on it. Its eyes glowed with a strange golden light before it took to the air and dived at a ninety degree angle into the pool that the teenage witch and wizard had tumbled into minutes earlier.<br>There was barely a splash of water before the surface of the pool calmed again, and all was silent.

Ω


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2: Fangorn Forest

It felt as if ice was racing through Hermione's veins, searing and stretching it. The pain was horrible, worse than anything she had ever felt. Worse than when she had been under the influence of the Cruciatus. Worse than having the word mud blood inked into her skin. She felt as if the agony would cut her in half, yet she couldn't open her mouth to scream as her lips refused to part.  
>The witch could feel the sensation of water sliding over her, growing colder and colder as she moved downward. She somehow had the wits about her to wonder if she was still spinning around in the bottom of the pool of water. It felt like she was in the rinse cycle in her mum's washing machine at home, except this water was so cold it was starting to burn.<br>There was a slight pressure on her fingers and Hermione almost didn't register it. It took her a long moment to realize that something was grasping her hand. But she couldn't pull away even if she wanted to. After another minute, she was able to register that it was a hand holding her own.  
>With a great effort, Hermione managed to open her eyes. What she saw was not what she was expecting.<br>Instead of seeing the underwater atmosphere of the pool as she had anticipated, Hermione saw a white world rushing past her face, yet she could still feel the harsh sting of the frigid water.  
>She could barely focus, but there were flashes of color appearing within the white and the color materialized into vivid scenes from her life. She was just able to blink, remembering the feelings and sensations that came along with each.<br>The train ride where she had first met Harry and Ron, the three of them fighting the troll in the bathroom, studying in the library, unmasking Sirius Black in the Shrieking Shack, the Tri-wizard tournament and Harry playing Quidditch. The Order of the Phoenix, Harry training the many witches and wizards in Dumbledore's army and the many Halloween Feasts, Dumbledore's death and the Elder Wand. And finally, the dark flash of Lord Voldemort's robes as Harry dealt the killing stroke, and the red light of his eyes dulling to a rust and then fading altogether as the dark lord fell back onto the floor and was no more.  
>Suddenly, the pain increased almost tenfold, and Hermione let out a high pitched scream. She didn't know where she had found the breath as she was supposed to be under water. The cry died to a gurgle when water entered her mouth and the witch clamped her jaws shut.<br>All of a sudden, the scenes in the white water changed to a beautiful mountainous countryside, one that she had never seen before. Then the view changed to an extraordinary kingdom on the edge of the sea, and then a serenity filled valley, in which its residents were going about farming, fishing and planting their crops. Suddenly the grasp on her hand tightened and Hermione realized that whoever was with her was seeing what she was seeing as well.  
>Finally a fourth vision, nowhere as near as nice as the others appeared. It was an all seeing fire, forming the shape of an eye. It was all reds and scarlet colors. Its outer rim was as yellow golden as the sun, but as sickly as sulfur and as acidic and corrosive as bleach. An all burning fire was emanating from it, and Hermione began to feel the chill of the water fade away as the burn of the flame licked at her skin.<br>Somewhere in the recesses of her mind she knew she was seeing a vision of things to come. But her body didn't know that and it writhed trying to get away from the living flame.  
>Finally the pupil that dominated the center of the eye, was a deep black. As black as tar that one could melt and drown in. It almost appeared like a doorway, inviting her to step through it and experience the dangerous temptations and sensual pleasures of what the master of the eye was offering.<br>Just when Hermione began to think she could bear no more of the heat, the vision vanished. And then she was out of the pool.  
>There was a deafening concussion, and suddenly the water exploded into a thousand fragments and droplets around her.<br>And then came the air. She was surrounded by it. Beautiful sweet clear air that didn't clog her lungs and stop up her windpipe.  
>Suddenly she realized that there was nothing solid beneath her, and then she began to fall.<br>Too surprised to even scream, Hermione and whoever was holding her hand, landed on something solid with a crash so hard it was enough to knock the air from her lungs and have her gasping like a fish.  
>For a few minutes, she lay there trying to regain the regular cycle of breathing. After another minute, she felt she was able to open her eyes and did so. First by opening her eyes a slit, and then finally unveiling herself to the world around her completely.<br>At first, the world was completely black. But then it dulled to a smoky grey and then finally a deep green, and Hermione began to realize just what she was seeing.

She was lying flat on her back in a wood that most certainly was not the Forbidden Forest. She could tell that right away by the fact that the trees were taller, more evergreen and not quite as disturbing. Also because of the fact that sunlight was poking through the trees and the last time she had checked, it had been night.

Looking to make sure, she glanced around for the tent and was awarded the knowledge that she was indeed somewhere else when she saw that it was not in fact there. The air was close in the wood, and she could tell that it was old, very old. The trees creaked above her ominously and Hermione resisted the urge to cringe.

She wasn't sure what had happened but something was indeed very very wrong.

All of a sudden a deep groan to her left had her looking down in a flash. Hermione covered her mouth in surprise.

_How in Merlin's name did _he_ get here?!_ She mentally screamed, but her eyes weren't deceiving her. Lying on his side facing her was a very real Draco Malfoy. A muted pained sound was coming from his throat and as she watched he moved his arms and tried to roll himself over onto his stomach so he could get up.

Hermione snapped out of her reverie and crawled over to his side where she gingerly tried to turn him over.

"Draco, Draco please wake up," she asked looking worriedly over him to make sure that the blonde hadn't injured himself.

About ten seconds later, his eyelids slid open and met her dark worried gaze with his pale blue grey confused look. His gaze was incredibly disoriented, and his pale blonde hair looked more disheveled than ever, but it was a much better look then when he had embodied a prat with every hair glued to his head.

"Granger….what…what the hell happened?" He asked sounding very unlike himself. "Where….where are we?"

"No bloody clue," Hermione murmured in response as she gazed around the forest. Without even looking at him, she grasped hold of the blonde's arm and gently pulled him to a sitting position so he was back on his knees.

Together, the two of them looked around and what Hermione saw astounded her.

They were sitting in the clearing of a forest much like the one that the tent had been situated in earlier. However, this particular clearing was much wider than and not as spherical as the other had been. There was a pool of water in its center identical to the one that Hermione had fallen into before, but as far as similarities went that was pretty much it.

This forest was a much lighter green, with mossy vines hanging from the branch of each tree, growing over every rock and cascading over every plant, so much green until it almost made you sick to your stomach to look at it.

There was a clear silvery brook trickling over the rocks a few yards to their left and it was surprisingly quiet. No birds chirped in the trees though it was very obviously daytime. In that regard, it was exactly like the Forbidden Forest.

Hermione glanced down at the ground where her hands rested and found it to be quite soft as the forest floor was covered in layer upon layer of moss. Tiny purple and yellow flowers poked their pretty faces out of the mass of green to smile up at her and Hermione frowned. She reached down and plucked one of the blossoms up by its roots, examining it carefully. These certainly weren't any flowers she had ever seen before.

That was the witch's second clue that they weren't in Kansas anymore.

Draco meanwhile, was looking around with an incredulous look of wonder on his face. If Hermione had been focused on it, she would have laughed at his expression because its appearance was so out of place on his normally sneering features.

"I repeat, where the hell are we?" he muttered as he continued looking about.

Hermione glanced down and was pleased to see that they still had their wands. She carefully looked herself over and was glad of the fact that she had sustained no more injuries then a few scratches and bruises. Although a dull ache was beginning to form in the back of her head and she wondered at its origins, until she remembered the vision she had in the pool.

Then it all came rushing back.

Within two seconds, she was one her feet and racing back to the pool where they had come flying out of minutes earlier.

"Granger, what in the bloody hell are you doing?" the Slytherin behind her demanded, but she didn't reply. Instead, Hermione merely slipped off her school shoes which she was somehow still wearing and stepped right into the pool expecting to drop into the water right away and be completely submerged.

Instead, she felt a sick horror when the water only went up to cover her ankles and just wet the edge of her cloak.

That was it then. Wherever they were, there was no going back. As she had suspected the second she had gotten her wits about her, she knew that the pool of water had been a portkey and a rather powerful one at that if it had sucked her and Draco into it. And speaking of which…..

"Why in the bloody hell did you come back?" She demanded whirling on him. Draco, who was still sitting on his hands and knees looking around at the forest with a dazed look on his face blinked twice before he clued into the realization that she was talking to him.

"I'm sorry I had the decency to turn up just in time to save you from drowning," he managed to snap back, and Hermione bit her lip. Here was the overbearing Slytherin she remembered.

"Obviously I wasn't drowning because look where I ended up!" she hissed. Draco's eyes widened. "Oh so now I'm supposed to be a mind reader Granger? Then if we're following that line of logic, you should've known that the pool was a portkey!"

Hermione stared at him as if he had grown a third arm. "Now you want to discuss my choice of location? If you recall, I didn't ask you to come back and dive into the pool after me!"

"Oh really, and I suppose if I didn't you would be here by yourself, subject to all the apparent dangers."

"What danger? We don't even know where here is!" Hermione growled. Draco opened his mouth but no sound came out. Hermione exhaled loudly and flopped back onto the ground next to him.

"This is madness," she muttered aloud. Draco got to his feet, surprising her. "Not for long," he replied. "We still have our wands, maybe we can apparate back." Hermione nodded and joined him.

Together they flicked their wands in the telltale gesture that signaled their desire to rearrange their flesh in a different location.

Only this time nothing happened.

Hermione could feel a strange energy swirling through the ground and through the roots of the trees up the trunks and into the very leaves and air itself, but it was a magic unlike any she had ever come into contact with before. This magic felt borderline dangerous. And it also felt slightly out of her reach, like she could almost tap into it if she were to make it past a certain barrier.

She dropped her wand arm, frustrated. "It's no bloody use."

Draco looked equally frustrated. "Well what are we supposed to do? Sit here and wait for the monsters to get us?"

Hermione let out an agitated sigh, she didn't like this situation anymore then he did, but being resourceful as she was, she also didn't intend to take it lying down. She looked around at their surroundings.

Even though they were surrounded by wood, it was dense and thick to the point where she was pretty sure that even if it rained, they wouldn't get wet very much. But that would only serve their purposes if they decided to remain in the wood. Hermione cast a glance at her blonde haired companion. She couldn't see that happening anytime soon.

Under different circumstances she might acquiesce to his desire to stay sheltered but she had a strange feeling that they were no longer in the Forbidden Forest, and she had no desire to remain in an unknown closed off area where there might be even more dangerous monsters waiting for the opportunity to strike at two unarmed teenagers.

She sat back down on the leaf covered ground, not wanting to look at his face. She was sure he would blame her for what happened and even though it had been his decision to come after her, she had been the one to set up the tent in that particular area and she had been the one to leave it. She admitted it, it had been a mistake, and she was just about to open her mouth to acknowledge this by speaking first when he surprised her again.

"I suppose we should either try to make some shelter for ourselves or get out of this bloody wood. Judging by the way the sunlight is shining through the trees, it's still morning, so that means we have at least six or seven hours of daylight to use to our advantage."

Hermione blinked, why the hell hadn't she thought of that? And Merlin knows she was the smart one. Rolling her eyes from the sheer absurdity of her own thoughts, she got to her feet again and eyed the blonde on the ground.

"Well I suppose we should get going then," she said and Draco cast an odd look up at her, his face holding none of the sneer as it had earlier. "Go? Go where?"

Hermione sighed quietly. "To see wherever here is. We don't even know if we're still in the Forbidden Forest or somewhere else entirely, and all we have are the clothes on our backs and the wands in our hands. So I don't know about you, but I would like to find some kind of shelter before night falls."

To her extreme surprise, Draco didn't argue. He got to his feet again and began to dust off the grass from his navy blue sweater and dark jeans before he stopped and began to frown.

"Is something wrong?" Hermione asked noticing his change in demeanor. Draco didn't answer for a moment because he turned back to the pool of water that he and the witch had been birthed from only a quarter of an hour earlier and rubbed the side of his face, considering something.

"Didn't it occur to you as odd that we're not soaking wet like we should be?" he asked. Hermione blinked and glanced down at her own cloak which she was somehow still wearing, and realized that he was right. They should have been soaking wet but she was dry as a bone and because of the humidity and the close air in the forest, she was getting warmer all the time.

"What in the bloody hell….." she trailed off as she stepped closer to the pool before bending down and skimming her fingers across the top of the water. As expected, they came away wet, but after a few seconds of the moisture remaining on her fingers, Hermione felt the water begin to dissolve into her skin and she almost gasped from surprise.

"Well, whatever the case, I certainly wasn't expecting that," she murmured out loud as she watched the last of the moisture evaporate.

It was a curious thing, but then everything about this situation was curious. She had no idea where they were, although the possibility of her being in some outrageously outlandish forest somewhere in the extreme north of Britain had occurred to her. The trees and local flora were certainly unlike anything she had seen before. But that was hardly much to go on.

"Well Granger?" Draco asked, breaking into her thoughts and starting her from her reverie. "Are we going to get moving or sit here all day gawping at trees?"

Hermione unexpectedly felt the skin on her face heat, because until then she hadn't realized that she had been looking around with a slightly dazed expression coloring her face.

"Right then," she replied, gripping her wand. "Let's get going." Draco folded his arms across her broad chest, and gave her an almost leering smirk. "And just what direction do you propose we go, oh magnanimous forest ranger?"

Hermione glared at him before marching up to one of the trees closest to her examining it on all sides. She was rewarded when she noticed moss on the side closest to her. There now, at least she had a sense of direction.

"I propose we head south," she said to her companion and signaled the direction to him. "After all it's been my experience that the south is more populated so we are much more likely to find out where in the hell we are."

"Wonderful," Draco groaned. "I am basing my wellbeing on the positioning of moss."

Ω

They walked in silence for a bit, both too anxious to find out where they were to be interested in conversing.

Hermione was far too interested in looking around her and taking in the forest to really be focused on talking to her companion as it was anyway. The place was as dense and thick as the Forbidden Forest, but somehow this wood seemed far older. Maybe it was the way the trees curved around each other in a tangled mass, or the way mossy vines seemed to be draped on everything visible. Or perhaps it was the way that the ground was becoming so rocky that she was having to look down every other minute so that she didn't crash into Draco. She had already done that once, no sense in doing it again.

As she walked, the flow of magic running through the air and the ground beneath her feet didn't seem to become any less. If anything it remained a constant steady stream.

Curious, she reached out and placed her hand hesitantly on the trunk of the nearest tree. Immediately and to her surprise the magic all around her began to hum. Before it had flowed under feet and above her head smoothly and with a curious rhythm. But the minute she placed her hand on the bark, the vibrations began to get louder and she could almost feel the power sizzling in her fingertips, willing her to make use of it.

"Granger, what are you doing?" Draco asked. He stopped a few feet away when he realized that she wasn't following him.

Hermione didn't look at the blonde and pressed her hand more firmly to the wood feeling the blood in her veins sizzle as it combined with the magical power in the atmosphere and she literally felt her whole being vibrate.

The witch closed her eyes, drinking in the feeling. It was this sensation of undulating power combining with the magic already within her core that made her skin tingle and goose bumps rise on her arms. It felt dangerous and rippling with power, but it also felt…..right, sure. Like this was how magic was supposed to be. Like this was how it was supposed to be wielded.

"Granger what the hell are you doing?" His voice was so close to her now that Hermione jumped and let out a very unladylike squeal.

"Nothing," she said, almost far too quickly. "Nothing, come on lets go." She quickly strode away from him and the tree without a backwards glance.

Before following her, Draco reached out and hesitantly placed his hand on the tree trunk where her hand had been earlier. He jumped back and cursed under his breath when he felt the power pulsating under his hand.  
>Dear Merlin, where were they that magic was right at their fingertips in everything that they touched? It was insane. He had never touched a tree in wizarding Britain and had this kind of reaction before.<br>Suddenly a notion came to him, a completely absurd notion that made him almost want to start shaking in his shoes.  
>What if they weren't in wizarding Britain?<br>What if they were somewhere else?  
>The blonde brushed the thought away as soon as it entered his mind. That was crazy. Where else would they be if they weren't in Britain? He didn't even want to try and answer that question.<br>"Malfoy!" The Slytherin jerked when Granger called his name and looked up to see her standing a few feet away. The witch's eyes were blazing with a strange light. She didn't look angry but there was a curious fire brightening her face. She appeared...invigorated, more alive than he had ever seen her. If he had seen her back at Hogwarts he probably would've asked her what she was smoking.  
>But Draco didn't really feel like asking ridiculous questions right now.<br>"Right behind you Granger," he replied as he started after her, absently shaking his hand as the strange tingling feeling racing in his veins refused to go away.  
>The two fell into step alongside each other again, and remained that way without speaking for the next hour or so. But by that time, it was around the middle of the day and it was beginning to get hot. Hotter than the night had been in The Forbidden Forest. Hermione could see the sheen of perspiration on Draco's forehead and she winced when she wondered how she must look like to him. Her hair was probably frizzier than ever and was most likely standing on end. Merlin, Draco must think she looked a porcupine!<br>_And just why do you care?_ The practical voice that always dominated Hermione's thoughts had crept in and was layering the corners of her mind in simplistic realism. _After all it's not like you're going to be around him for long. You just need to find a portkey, get back to the Forbidden Forest from wherever the hell this was and pretend that this little jaunt through magical cyberspace never happened.  
><em> Because she was getting so warm and constantly having to watch her step from all the rocks that were suddenly appearing on the ground, Hermione unlatched the clip at her throat which held her clock closed, the gold symbols bearing the runes of Gryffindor and swept the garment from her shoulders and over her right arm in one fluid motion.  
>Draco stopped, staring at her. "Granger since when do you wear dresses?" Hermione glanced down at her attire and felt a curious heat rise in her cheeks. The feast had still been going on when she left and she hadn't had time to change without attracting any unwanted attention. So she had simply left in the clothes she had partied in.<br>Hermione was wearing a copper colored dress with long sleeves falling past her fingertips. The collar went right to the edges of her shoulders so it looked like it would almost fall off. The edges of the neckline instead were simplistically embroidered with a golden thread that brought out the bronze tones in her skin. The hemline fell past her ankles and just barely brushed the tops of the grass and the rocks so that she had to hold it up with the tips of her fingers. Around her waist was embroidered the same golden thread that adorned the neckline. It was by no means a fancy dress, and by anyone's standards it was quite modest. Hermione wasn't much of a dress wearer and the feast had been a bitter sweet affair so she had felt something simple would be appropriate.  
>She was so busy examining herself that she failed to notice that Draco's eyes had opened a little bit wider and his gaze as it slid up and down her form was quite appreciative. It looked good on her...no scratch that, it looked damn good on her. That brought back memories...<br>Draco would never admit it to anyone but himself, but as soon as Hermione had appeared at the top of the stairs at the Yule Ball in their fourth year at Hogwarts on the arm of Viktor Krum, she had blasted the buck toothed bushy haired know it all image he had of her to smithereens.  
>After that it was impossible for him to get that other image of her out of his head, the picture of her standing at the top of the stairs with that dress cascading over her figure which was beyond pleasing, and her eyes sparkling like stars...<br>Well let's just say that Draco Malfoy was never quite able to look at her the same way again. There were times even up until now when he would take out that image of her at the Ball that he tucked away in his memory and consider it again. It was only when he was alone and almost always late at night, when no one else was around to wonder what he was smiling about.  
>Draco blinked, realizing he was staring at her, and from that moment on did his best to look anywhere else.<br>His gaze was drawn to one of the trees on his right. It had to have been at least sixty feet tall, and he could tell by the way it curved around the other trees that it was taller than the rest. Its bark was deep and grooved and provided ample spaces where you could put your hands and feet if you wanted to climb.  
>Suddenly he had an idea...<p>

By the time Hermione looked up again, Draco had strode over to the tree and kicked his shoes off. He placed his hands along the ridges in the bark and after ensuring that he had a good grip, began to haul himself up.  
>"Malfoy, what the hell are you doing?" Hermione called, sounding somewhat panicked as she closed the distance toward him.<br>The blonde looked down at his brunette companion. "What does it look like Granger? I'm trying to see just how far this bloody forest goes on for. The last thing I want to do is go trekking through the woods with no idea where the hell I'm going."  
>"Well, alright, but do be careful, it looks awfully high," she called up to him as he climbed higher.<br>"Worried for me Granger?" Malfoy called down casting a lazy smirk in her direction.  
>Hermione rolled her eyes as she watched the blonde clamber swiftly up the tree. She stood at its base ready to cast a spell to catch him should he lose his balance. She watched him carefully, as he used his arms and shoulders to haul himself up the steep trunk. He didn't go fast enough that it was reckless but swift enough that he didn't want to waste time.<br>Hermione watched as the muscles in his arms and shoulders worked seamlessly as he climbed. She frowned. Had he always been that well-muscled? Then again, she wouldn't remember. The Golden Trio had been on the run for the past year. The witch had been more focused on staying alive and defeating Voldemort then checking out the physique of the man who'd been her mortal enemy since she was eleven.  
>But now a curiosity had arisen in her as she watched the blonde climb further out of sight. It was true, they had both grown up, and she wondered in just what ways had the two of them changed. There had been no time for self-reflection before, but now there was.<br>Finally, Draco climbed through the layer of leafs that hid him from her view, and Hermione settled down on one of the tall roots of the tree to wait for him, for she didn't know how high the tree was.  
>When she had done so, her mind immediately drifted back to the battle of Hogwarts and the many that had died in the fight. The funerals would go on for at least two weeks, and part of her wished that she had not ducked out when she did, that she had stayed to pay homage to those who had fought beside her. But Hermione was tired of the death and slaughter. After the battle, when the bodies had been gathered to one side and covered over in respect, she had walked carefully among them, saying her final goodbyes.<br>It was a memory that she knew she would never be able to forget. The sight of them lying there, still and quiet, eyes shut, never to open again, had filled her with a soul deep sorrow. It was then that she knew she had had enough of war, enough of death, and enough of sadness.  
>Hermione was soul weary. It was a deep exhaustion that reached right into her bones and weighed them down slightly. The fatigue was only something that could be cured by a long reprieve.<br>Her mind drifted back to her time in the pool, the visions she had seen. The witch had no idea what they meant, but it was difficult to get the image of the fiery eye out of her head. It meant something, something dangerous and she had a feeling that something sinister was coming, something even worse than Lord Voldemort.  
>She shuddered, <em>don't think like that,<em> she thought. _The war is over, you need to relax Granger._  
>Yet the picture wouldn't leave her mind. She wondered for a brief moment if she should tell Draco. She didn't remember that he had been in the pool with her and had seen the same things she had. She also didn't know that even as such thoughts troubled her to distraction, they troubled him as well.<p>

Ω

Draco tried to ignore the screaming of his muscles as he pulled himself up the tree trunk. He had been climbing for almost ten minutes and he was just starting to make out the top of the tree. He didn't dare climb too high because he knew the uppermost branches would be weak and couldn't support his weight, but he just needed to get his head above the other trees.  
>He took a minute to glance down to where Hermione was and he allowed a lazy smirk to cross his face when he saw that she had picked up his shoes and seated herself on one of the tree roots to wait for him, wand always at the ready. His smirk widened into a grin when he saw her carefully look around every few seconds.<br>Granger was always steady as a rock and even though the two had never been chummy with each other and always been wary of each other, he knew that if they were in a tight situation, she would be someone he could trust.  
>The thought surprised him as he climbed. They had given up tormenting each other during their fourth year, but had never really spoken to each other after that. Draco had always wondered why. Of course with the resurrection of a mad wizard, he didn't really have time to think about it.<br>But now, having a moment's peace as he did, he considered it. Hermione was a perplexing character. She was a wild card, somebody he never knew how to predict. That made her unexpected, interesting. He wondered what might have happened if he had sought after her friendship in their first year, what might have been different. At best, he would've had some friends with personality and with whom he might have shared some common interests.  
>There really wasn't much that he could do about it now however. And he didn't know why, but that bothered him.<br>Finally, Draco's head broke through the barrier of multi colored leaves and came out topside. He was not prepared for what he saw.  
>He was amazed at how stifling the air in the forest had been and the moment he felt the sun on his skin, he lifted his face toward it and closed his eyes, breathing deeply of the fresh air.<br>From his vantage point he could see everything. Draco turned his head in a complete 360 and saw that to the rear of him were beautiful snowcapped mountains, more breathtaking then anything he had seen in his travels across Europe. The mountain range stretched as far as the eye could see, stunning Draco speechless as he tried to take it all in. The mountains reached so high that he could see cloud banks resting on the small plateaus. The green of the forest, for the forest he and Granger were in was truly enormous, went part of the way up the sides, but then tapered off into grey rocky surfaces in which nothing else could be seen. Finally nearing the top, the snow covered the summit in a thick blanket obscuring any other view the blonde might have had, but at the moment, Draco was just content to take it all in. For the millionth time he wondered what country they were in that boasted such beauty.  
>He turned back around and saw with a grin that not only were they close to finding their way out, but that a flat plain covered by dry brown grass stretched as far as the eye could see in every direction. It was a like a sea of wheat, you couldn't see the end of it. Scattered throughout the plain were tall rugged crags of rocks. The land itself was uneven, it rose and dipped in places and where it rose, the hills were just high enough that he couldn't make out everything that was behind them which made him a little uncomfortable because anything could be hiding there.<br>Draco wondered what they would find when they went there, as they had no choice but to enter it. He estimated they had to walk maybe twenty more minutes before they were out of the forest and into the outside world.  
>Seeing as how he now had a plan, Draco smiled before looking around once more. He couldn't deny how beautiful it was. It was the sort of place he would want to spend every holiday with his parents. In fact he could imagine a quaint chalet at the foot of the mountain and perhaps a stable for horses next to it. Draco had ridden horses a lot when he had been on holiday over the summer and he would never admit it to anyone, but it was one of his favourite pastimes.<br>Then he remembered that Hermione was waiting below and after checking carefully, began to make his way down.  
>Climbing down from a tree, especially a tall one was no easy task. Because of your vantage point it was more difficult to see the footholds, and Draco had to go much slower for fear of tripping himself up and falling.<br>At last however, he dropped onto the forest floor again and winced when his left foot struck a rock.  
>Hermione got up from the root she had been sitting on, her cloak thrown over one arm and her wand gripped in the same hand. In her other, she carried his shoes which she held out to him when she came near.<br>He took them from her and nodded his thanks before sitting down on the root which she had been sitting to put them back on.  
>"What did you see?" Hermione asked as she watched him. Draco waited until he had re-tied the laces before he got up and answered her with a smirk.<br>"Good news Granger, we just need to head a little further south, maybe twenty more minutes and we'll be out of this bloody forest." A look of relief crossed Hermione's face and Draco found himself inexplicably smiling as well.  
>"Well that's good, at least then we can find out straight away where we are. Well come on then let's go."<br>Without waiting for him, she hurried off, leaving Draco to follow and look after her in amusement. In some ways Granger hadn't changed a bit.

Ω

Draco had been right about the wood. Although Hermione would never tell him so and stroke his already inflated ego.  
>But in this case, she was very glad that his estimations had been correct, for indeed within twenty minutes, there was a clearing in the trees up ahead, and a patch of grey sky could be seen. Hermione began to hurry toward it, causing Draco to have to quicken his stride slightly as well.<br>After another few minutes, the trees began to thin and before the witch and wizard knew it, they were out of the woods and into the wide world of the plains that Draco had seen while he was still in the forest.  
>Hermione turned around looking in every direction marveling at just how wide the expanse of earth and sky was, in fact it went so far that it almost looked like the two were connected because they went on forever.<br>The witch turned and saw the beautiful expanse of mountain ranges stretching out for miles behind her. The forest in all its evergreen enormity crept slowly up the side of the mountain only abating half way up.  
>The sky was grey and the clouds hinted at rain. Hermione cursed, the last thing she wanted to do was get herself wet when they were in a strange country and had nothing but the clothes on their backs.<br>She turned and saw that Draco was watching her carefully. His stormy blue grey eyes were calm, as if he was calculating something. Hermione frowned at him. "Is something wrong?" She asked.  
>The blonde rubbed the side of his face. "It just occurred to me, where exactly is the main road? You'd think if we were even in a countryside that we didn't know there would at least be a road around here somewhere."<br>Hermione glanced around and saw that he was right. In every direction she looked, there were mountains and rolling grasslands and sky. There was no road anywhere.  
>Hermione pressed a hand to her chest reminding herself sternly to not panic. They still had their magic if worse came to worse. But the idea of being stranded in a strange country where the language was most likely not English having nothing but the clothes on her back and with Draco Malfoy of all people...well you can understand why the young witch was starting to have trouble breathing.<br>Draco must have seen the look on her face because he shocked her to her core when he stepped forward and placed a gentle hand on her arm.  
>She looked up into his eyes, and saw that unlike her, he was utterly calm. How on earth is he managing that? She wondered.<br>"Don't worry, we'll get ourselves out of this, and if worse comes to worse, we still have our wands." Hermione took a deep breath, and nodded but didn't respond, a little too aware of his hand on her arm, and her own fear that they wouldn't find their way back.  
>But he was right. Merlin, she hated admitting that. She breathed deeply again and waited for the logical Hermione Granger to return. Thankfully within a few minutes it did.<br>"Alright then Malfoy," she said calmly as the two kept eye contact with each other, "where do you propose we start off to?" He raised a perfectly sculpted blonde brow and smirked lazily at her. Hermione felt her nerves begin to stand on end.  
>"Why Granger, I thought we were following your line of logic in this particular endeavor."<br>"And that is?"  
>"We just start walking and see what we find."<p>

Ω

Hermione was seriously beginning to question her logic.  
>It had seemed like a good idea in the forest as they had wandered south, but now there was no moss to tell her in which direction to go in. She was completely without any answers and that terrified her more than being in a strange country with her mortal enemy for company.<br>Except Draco wasn't her mortal enemy anymore. They were more like ships in the night, passing each other in the halls at school without more than a second glance.  
>But as the two of them walked over grassy plains and past large outcroppings of rocks, Hermione knew she wouldn't be able to ignore him any longer. Not if they were to remain in each other's presence for much longer. Some things needed to be said, to be acknowledged. But Hermione sure as hell wasn't going to bring them up herself.<p>

As the two of them walked, Hermione was unable to stop herself from looking around. The scenery was absolutely breathtaking. There were so many different shades of brown and white and green and blue and black that she felt she would have to go cross eyed to see them all. The plain before them stretched out for miles gently rising and falling with the hills. The outcroppings of rock only augmented the sheer vastness of the land and the enormous mountains to their rear.  
>"How many more hours of daylight do you think we have?" She asked absently even as she tried to get her brain to shut up from thinking too much.<br>Draco bit his lip, looking at the sun which was slowly but steadily making its way toward the crest of the mountain range behind them.  
>"Maybe two more hours?" He replied. Hermione suppressed a sigh as she tried to rein in her paranoia. What if they had to spend the night here in this strange land? There was no food, no water, and no shelter, besides their wands they had nothing to defend themselves with, and even those were beginning to look somewhat shabby.<br>Hermione sucked air between her teeth, trying to make as little a noise as possible. The last thing she wanted to do was alert Draco to the fact that she was nervous. Hermione Granger after all had been a part of the trio that had toppled Lord Voldemort. And in doing so, she had had to spend a year in a tent in the open. So why should this time be any different?  
>Because she was with Draco Malfoy, that's why.<br>The thought nearly caused her to stumble. Where the hell had that come from? After all she should be used to living with guys right now and God knows that they could be a pain in the-  
>"Are you alright Granger?" Malfoy broke into her thoughts, startling her. Hermione glanced at him, annoyed that the dying light was causing the blue in his eyes to sparkle to turquoise.<br>"Let's just hurry up and find the damn road," she muttered, forging ahead, so she wouldn't have to look at him. This was crazy, and Hermione felt her blood pressure beginning to rise.  
>Fortunately, they reached the top of another hill which looked down into the divot beyond and suddenly a pale strip of grey began to materialize, winding its way through the rising and falling land which as much fluidity as the land itself rose and fell.<br>"Thank Godric," Hermione muttered at the same time as Draco muttered, "Thank Salazar." The pair exchanged a quick grin and quickened their stride towards the road which was only about a hundred yards away.  
>By this time, the golden rays of the sun had touched the top of the mountain range behind them which blocked out a significant amount of light. And with the loss of light, it began to become much cooler. Hermione shivered and swept her cloak over her shoulders again, quickly clipping the clasp closed.<br>Sure enough within the next ten minutes, the pair had reached the road and began to look up and down it for sign of life. They had been there for all of ten minutes looking for signs of life when the sound of hooves began to assault their ears farther up the road on their left.  
>Hermione breathed a sigh of relief when she saw the curious form of life coming up the road toward them. A second later though she blinked when what she had expected to be a car, but which later turned out to be a cart drawn by two strong looking horses plodding their way down the road. From what she could tell the cart was a crude wooden structure filled almost all the way up with hay and other curious looks herbs and plants.<br>Without thinking, Hermione put a foot into the road to make sure that the driver of the cart could see her and began to wave her arms slowly.  
>"Granger, what are you doing?" Draco hissed but the witch didn't reply. Finally she began to make out the form of a man sitting atop the cart holding the reins in his hands loosely, the stem of a pipe clasped between his lips, a small stream of smoke steaming from the top. He was dressed in curious clothing, it looked like old fashioned breeches and a worn tunic that was tied at the waist with an old leather belt. His head was bare and there was the remnant of a scraggly beard on his cheeks and chin. His eyes, as he got closer to the two were brown that sparkled with merriment and mystery.<br>Fearing that this might be their only chance of some help before sun down, Hermione took a deep breath and spoke up when he was about fifteen feet away and had caught sight of them.  
>"Excuse me sir?" She called. The man, who she now took to be a farmer, pulled the cart to a halt and eyed her carefully. He slowly took the pipe from his mouth and frowned at the two teenagers.<br>"Now what would a couple of younglings like yourself be doing out at this time of day with the sun going down? There are nasty people abroad in this country, and the two of you are unarmed."  
>Hermione shivered at what he was implying. She exchanged glances with Draco. He glanced at her for a moment, his stormy eyes were still calm, but his posture had become slightly apprehensive. Hermione turned back to the man who was still watching them carefully.<br>"Begging your pardon sir, but would you mind telling us where we are?" The last part she said carefully as if she was trying to prepare herself for the fact that she might not like his answer.  
>"Where are you?" He asked incredulously. "Why you're in Middle Earth, just outside of Fangorn Forest. The snowcapped Misty Mountains are to the rear and the plains of Rohan are before you."<br>Hermione blinked and had to clear her throat a few times before she could speak again without sounding strangled or like she was choking.  
>"I'm sorry...what?" She asked. It was really the only thing she was able to ask given the fact that the farmer in front of her had listed nearly half a dozen places that she had never heard of before anywhere in Europe.<br>The farmer gave her a strange look. But Hermione kept talking because she knew if she had to stop, she would have to acknowledge that whatever this hick was telling her was fact and she was not yet ready to do that. So of course the brightest witch of the age began to babble, something she always did when she was angry, confused or sad.  
>"Is this Middle Earth a part of England or even Europe? Or are we in some other country across the world? Please tell me that it's not a place where magic can't be used because if that's true, then we are royally screwed. We won't be able to use magic, or defend ourselves and how are we going to eat much less get back to Britain if we can't use magic, oh we are completely and utterly-"<br>She was cut short when Draco, who she had actually forgotten was beside her, reached out and slipped his hand into hers interlocking their fingers. As it was, she was shocked silent.  
>"What my companion means is that we haven't really been in this country before, and we experienced some bad luck a few miles back, our horses were stolen, so we are a bit lost."<br>Hermione stared at the blonde. She knew he was a Slytherin, but she didn't know he was able to lie that easily. Then again it kind of made sense.  
>All at once, the suspicious look on the farmers face transformed to one of sympathy. It was bloody amazing how one could say a simple lie and immediately the other persons perspective of you would change.<br>"Ah, young master, that's a crying shame. A young married couple like yourself having to be subject to such injustices. What is the world coming to?"  
>"Oh we're not marrie-" Hermione was cut short when Draco's nails dug into her skin and she let out a squeak. The farmer seemed to have not noticed the interruption. Draco continued smoothly.<br>"Would you happen to know of a particular hotel or inn where we might spend the night?" Hermione glanced at him but kept her mouth shut, wondering where he was going with this, but glad that he had used the word inn, simply because she wasn't sure this man given his manner of speech and dress would know what a hotel was.  
>The farmer rubbed his hand across his face, clearly thinking. "Well the closest inn would be in Bree, but that's a good two days ride from here by horse, and you are on foot."<br>The witch and wizard exchanged glances. For the first time, Draco looked a little nervous. Hermione didn't even want to see what her face looked like.  
>It was very obvious that they weren't in Britain anymore and that they wouldn't be able to find a way back at this time.<br>The farmer must have seen the distressed looks on their faces because he clicked his tongue and gave them a lopsided smile.  
>"Well how about this be?" He suggested, drawing their attention again. "I'm journeying to Bree myself to do some trading," he gestured to the load of herbs and spices in the back. "The least I could do is offer a young couple like yourself a ride there. You'd be safer in the town anyway, and I very well couldn't leave you in the middle of nowhere with the sun going down. Wouldn't do for my conscience."<br>Hermione and Draco exchanged glanced. This was a temporary fix to their problems, they might be able to get some supplies in this town called Bree, although why it was named after a certain type of cheese, Hermione would never know.  
>Draco spared the farmer a glance. "If you wouldn't mind waiting a moment sir. I would just like to consult with my lovely bride. Also, what is your name? I wouldn't feel comfortable accepting a ride from someone who I didn't know at least by that."<br>Hermione grimaced as he said the words. Even the notion of pretending to be his wife was twisting her insides into knots, and the worst part was, she didn't know if they were the good or the bad kind.  
>The farmer nodded but glanced at the sun that was rapidly beginning to descend upon the mountains, cutting off their light. "I am called by the name of Thengal, son of Thangore and very well, but do hurry young master, it's getting late. Our pace will have to swift all night if we want to outrun the bandits."<br>"Bandits?" Hermione squeaked quietly, but still loud enough for Thengal to hear her. The look he gave her was very serious. "Aye lass, these are dangerous times. We daren't stop even to refresh the horses else we be overrun by bandits."  
>Hermione ran a hand through her curly hair which she was sure that was even more unruly. At this moment, the farmers cart was beginning to look better and better.<br>"That settles it, let's go," Hermione muttered. Draco nodded and led her around to the back of the cart. It took some doing to let down the small gate which ensured that the cargo in the back fell out. The blonde let it down and stepped in first. Then he turned and reached out a hand for Hermione to help her in. The two of them locked eyes and Hermione was surprised to see that the calm look in his stormy eyes had returned.  
>"Do you trust me Granger?" He asked. Hermione had to suppress the urge to roll her eyes. "Merlin, why do I feel like I'm in a crazy rerun of a Disney movie?"<br>Draco's eyes twinkled and a lazy smirk crossed his face as he took her hand and helped her in to the cart. "So I'm your Prince Aladdin then?"  
>"Shut up Malfoy."<p>

Ω

It had been by far the strangest day that the witch had ever had and this included her time as a fugitive from the law. Here she was, after being sent through a portkey to a strange world called Middle Earth, in which the magic was more powerful than anything in Britain, now currently heading to a place called Bree to find a place to stay and figure out what the hell she was going to do.  
>Oh and did she mention that all of this had happened with Draco Malfoy of all people? And now she was sitting in the back of a horse cart pulled by a strange farmer toward a strange town with absolutely no way of knowing if he was above board, with the sun going down and their journey potentially being hampered by bandits.<br>She had made note of the sword strapped to the farmer's waist, and she had felt it odd that he didn't have a gun, but then she was reminded that this was a strange place she was in so guns might not have been invented yet.  
>She and Draco sat at the front of the cart right behind the farmer, attempting to make themselves comfortable.<br>"Bandits aren't very likely to take an interest in a cart with nothing but herbs," Thengal told them turning slightly, his gravelly voice just audible over the wind that was steadily picking up. "However if they see you, they will stop us. A beautiful young lady such as yourself would pique their interest lass, so it is best if you stay low and keep yourself hidden. The bags of herbs and spices are large and high so pile them up around you so you will not be seen."  
>"Thank you sir," Hermione said. He didn't have to tell her twice. The last thing she and Draco needed right now was to be separated from each other.<br>As soon as they were sufficiently packed among the tall bags of herbs and spices, which were actually quite comfortable, Hermione began to feel her heart rate slow and her muscles relaxing. She strangely felt safe. Maybe it was because her wand was still strapped to her waist by a leather cord, or maybe it was because Draco was next to her, or that she was packed in like a sardine, but Hermione began to feel somewhat lethargic. She tried to stay awake so she could talk to Draco and the farmer, but with each passing minute it became more and more difficult until she finally gave up trying. It had been a stressful day anyway.  
>So Hermione gave in and succumbed to the heavy arms of sleep.<p>

Ω

As soon as Draco saw that Hermione was asleep, the blonde breathed a sigh of relief. He wasn't tired at all, in fact he felt strangely invigorated. Being in this place was doing something to him. He hadn't realized just how stifled he felt back home. Here, he felt like he could breathe at last. Maybe it was because he had just realized how beautiful this place was, but there was something in the air.  
>For the first time in a long while, Draco felt...excited. A wry smile tugged the side of his mouth upward.<br>"Is she asleep?" Thengal asked, turning his head to one side so he could look the young wizard in the eye. Draco nodded. "The day's been somewhat stressful for her," he explained.  
>The farmer clucked his tongue in sympathy. "Well I should expect so. A young married couple like yourselves being taken advantage of like that, it's absolutely shameful."<br>He paused for a moment and Draco took a moment to admire the dying rays of the sun as they peeked over the top of the mountains. Long strands of light extended from behind the massive structure and kissed the blondes face, causing him to smile lazily.  
>"So what part of the land do you harken from?" The farmer asked suddenly and for a second, Draco almost panicked, knowing he had to come up with a convincing lie in order to keep up the cover he and Hermione had established. He quickly sifted through his memory to the names the farmer had mentioned earlier.<br>"A small village in Rohan." Merlin, he hoped he said the name correctly. But the farmer didn't seem to have noticed his temporary lapse.  
>"Close to Edoras then?" Thengal asked. "Because when I chanced upon you, your wife mentioned something about a place called Britain, so I was unsure."<br>Draco nodded amazed that he had managed to remain so calm. "The uh, the village we lived in was called by that name," he replied cursing his verbal ability or lack thereof to come up with a more convincing lie. "My wife has never been outside of our village before and I wanted to take her to see the rest of Middle Earth before we become too old to enjoy it."  
>Where the words came from he had no idea, but as he said the title Middle Earth, he paused. The very name seemed to thrum with power and vibrate his whole being and for the millionth time he wondered what on earth he and Hermione had gotten themselves into. But the more he whispered the names in his mind, the more his blood began to sing. There was something about this place...<br>A sudden howl in the distance shocked Draco from his dreamy reverie. The blonde stiffened and he looked around quickly, trying to see where the noise was coming from.  
>A soft chuckle from the farmer drew his attention back. "Don't be afraid young master, the wolves always begin howling around sundown, but they never venture onto the road. What we need to avoid is the bandits. Normally they don't come out onto the main roads, and this is a more frequently traveled highway, so it is unlikely that we should be stopped."<br>"Oh I feel so much better now," Draco muttered to himself. Then he glanced up at Thengal again. "If we were stopped, would they really take Hermione?"  
>The farmer frowned. "Hermione? That's an interesting name, but yes, she would most certainly be taken. There are very few women as fair as she in this land. Most of them are dark from work under the sun, rough like sheep's wool and worn like an old coat. Not like this lady. If I had my guess I shouldn't wonder if she is perhaps a descendant of the elves."<br>Draco frowned, his earlier confusion returning. He cursed mentally, thinking that this might have been exactly how Hermione felt with so many unknowns. Fortunately the farmer only looked mildly curious.  
>"Never seen the elves young master?" He asked. His voice was a little muddled but that was probably because of the pipe stem gripped between his teeth.<br>Draco shook his head. Thengal chuckled. "Ah well that's not uncommon, there are few in Middle Earth who have. They are a strange people, soft, silent, wise and so very fair. They keep to themselves and to their own kingdoms. Although a distant cousin my mine chanced upon one in the forest, and he was never the same after. Always dreamed of starlight and the deep waters. His eyes forever spoke of one who had seen things too great for him to understand."  
>As the farmer spoke of the elves, Draco felt his blood begin to quicken in his veins. When he thought of elves, he saw the poor sad creatures who were responsible for serving the old magical families, those servants who were dressed in rags. But these elves sounded higher and mightier than any being in Britain, and Draco could tell they were far different. He was suddenly possessed of a great desire to see these elves. To know these great beings who inspired such mystery and wonder in human men.<br>"What do they look like? The elves I mean?" Draco asked curiously, he was beginning to feel his eyes become heavy, but he fought against the sleep. The blonde's previous sneer which had become such a permanent fixture on his face, had fallen away until he had almost forgotten about it. There was no need for arrogance, especially seeing as how he and Hermione were in the same boat again. And he found that his previous disposition was somewhat better than it had been when he had left.  
>The blonde suddenly blinked and focused when he realized that Thengal had begun speaking again.<br>"Well young master-" Draco held up a hand to halt his speech. "Please call me Draco, you've been kind enough to tell us yours and offer us a ride to safety, the least I can do is to tell you mine."  
>For the first time, the farmer turned in his seat and offered Draco a smile, a real genuine smile which Draco found himself returning. Thengal rubbed the side of his face as his smile faded, considering.<br>"Draco…I can't say I've ever heard a name like that before. It almost sounds Elvish. Would it perhaps be an abbreviated form of the name Draconis?"  
>The blonde blinked and frowned in surprise. "Yes it is. How did you know? It's not like it's a common name." Thengal uttered a deep throaty chuckle.<br>"Because I have heard the name before young master Draconis. It is indeed an Elvish name, in fact if I'm not mistaken it is a Noldorin name for dragon."  
>Draco felt his blood run cold. His mother had told him when he was upset for having his name made fun of when he was small, that the name Draconis was nothing to be afraid of. That it was a noble name and he should be proud to call it his.<br>"Now then, you wanted to hear a tale of Middle Earth then didn't you?" Draco nodded, still pondering the meaning of his name. Thengal nodded in passing. Draco contemplated waking Hermione, as he felt what would be said was something she might find interesting, but a moment later he dismissed the thought. She was exhausted and he could tell her of it later.  
>"I must confess young master Draconis, I do not know well the stories of the elves, but I will tell you what I have heard around campfires and from distant traders for there much to be said of fairest and wisest race in Middle Earth."<br>Draco rested an arm on the edge of the wooden cart and pulled himself closer to the front of the cart where Thengal was so as to hear the story better.  
>There was a pause, and Draco blinked when he realized that the sky was now a deep sapphire blue and twinkling stars like millions of diamonds and crystals glittered in the navy blue velvet that was the night sky. Soon enough the moon became visible, it's silvery grey light illuminating the entire land and shocking Draco with the intensity with which it uncovered everything. There was no need of a torch. Draco could see the dark silhouette of the mountains crowning the land in all of its curved and peaked majesty. The blonde could hear the crickets hidden in the nearby tall grasses and the howl of the distant wolves, the whistling of the night breeze past his ears, and the slow creaking of the wheels of the cart on the dirt road. There was so much to look at and to listen to, that Draco nearly missed the beginning of Thengal's story.<p>

"This tale is one that is often told among the children of men and elves for it encompasses both and affects both. It was a great tragedy and occurred during the time when a dark lord such as Middle Earth has never been seen before, and I pray young master, that we will never see again. His first name I do not know, but will call him by the name given him at a later time. His name although long since uttered, bears the title of Morgoth."  
>Draco couldn't help himself. Maybe it was the cool of the night air or the eerie call of the wolves in the distance or the fact that he was in a strange land with no one but the woman next to him for company, but the blonde shivered. They had gone through most of their adolescent years speaking of Voldemort as He Who Must Not Be Named, but hearing the name Morgoth, a title which sounded a million times worse than the name of Voldemort well it was a cause for Draco to want to squirm uncomfortably.<br>Thengal didn't seem to notice his discomfort because he continued. "Now Morgoth was one of these greater beings who was possessed of a spirit full of discontent, greed, anger and jealousy. The elves refer to him as one who arises in might. It has been said that he was one of the first great spirits sent into this world at its beginning and he has been the only one to fall to the sins of it."  
>"So, so he was a dark lord then?" Draco asked softly. Thengal chuckled quietly in his throat. "Aye lad, Morgoth was the embodiment of everything that is black and evil in Middle Earth and even though he is no more, there has been none like him before or since. He desired to be in control of the beings of Middle Earth and so he did something despicable."<br>"What did he do?" Draco asked. If any one of his school friends had seen him as he was, curled up in the corner of a farmer's cart, listening to a story told by someone who would most undoubtedly be called a Mud-blood back home, they would have claimed that this was not Draco Malfoy.  
>But the blonde didn't care. He was far too interested in everything that was going on around him. To hell with what his friends would think, it wasn't like he would be seeing them for a while anyway.<br>Then he told his brain to shut up and to listen to the story that Thengal was continuing.  
>"To carry on with the story, Morgoth dwelt in his great fortress of Angband many thousands of years ago. They were also known as the Hells of Iron and they lay within the far north. He held a grip of iron on the peoples of Middle Earth, and his greatest purpose was utter domination."<p>

"How long ago was this?" Draco asked, tone hushed in amazement.

"Six and a half thousand years ago," Thengal replied. "During this time, there dwelt a man by the name of Hurin. And it was he, who brought about the wrath of Morgoth on himself."

"What did he do?" Draco asked. Thengal was an excellent story teller and the young man was hanging on every word. He had never before heard stories such as these in school, and as Thengal spoke on, a rush of longing filled his heart, a desire to know more of this land and its people and its history.

"Hurin was a man of integrity and great valor. He was well known by the elves, and it was through battle with them that he posed a threat to Morgoth.

You see lad, Morgoth was a being who had been present in this land since the day of its dawning. He was a being, a spirit, wrought with malice and malevolence for anything that was outside of his will. And having cast his eye upon Hurin, he desired for such a man to serve him. And Morgoth, also called the "Black Enemy" at that time had Hurin brought before him in chains. The elves had launched an assault on the fortress of Angband, but it ended in despair in what was forever more known as the Battle of Unnumbered Tears."

Draco cringed. That sounded irrevocably awful. Thengal was quiet for a moment as if sensing the blonde's discomfort. "Aye lad, it was a battle of immeasurable sorrow. Let us pray that there will never be another like it.

After the slaughter had concluded, Hurin was brought before Morgoth. The Dark Lord said to him that he would set Hurin free or allow him to join his service if he would but reveal the location of the stronghold of the elves.

But Hurin mocked him, and said: "Blind you are Morgoth Bauglir and blind shall ever be, seeing only the dark. You know not what rules the hearts of men and if you knew, you could not give it. But a fool is he who accepts what Morgoth offers. You will take first the price and then withhold the promise and I should get only death if I told you what you ask."

"What happened?" Draco asked. "Did Morgoth kill Hurin?"

"Nay lad. He did something far worse. You see, Morgoth was an incarnate being. A spirit cloaked in human flesh. But even as his power progressed and the long arm of his rule lengthened, Morgoth grew fearful. He feared because many served him and through his lies and wickedness, he passed his power into them, dispersing it among these creatures, so that he became more bound to the earth.

And because he could send his power freely into those who served him, Morgoth invoked a curse upon Hurin and all of his children. A curse that had never been seen before nor since."

"What was the curse?" Draco asked, his brow furrowed in concentration. He created a picture of a small child sitting at the feet of a chair, listening to a story far more terrible and wonderful for him to comprehend.

"Morgoth did not send an incantation on Hurin however but saved the worst of it for his offspring. As he styled himself Master of Earth, he claimed that all within it would bow and bend to his will.

But more terrible then that is the fate he invoked upon Hurin, as he was never allowed to leave Angband.

Morgoth said to Hurin, after he had been refused: "Upon all who you love, my thought shall weigh as a cloud of doom and it shall bring them down into darkness and despair."

"I'm afraid that I don't understand," Draco said, feeling a little confused. Morgoth didn't inflict some physical punishment on Hurin. He didn't lock him in his dungeons?"

"Nay lad," Thengal said patiently. "What Morgoth devised was far worse. The affliction that he devised for Hurin was that he should see with Morgoth's eyes. This meant that he would see in his mind, a situation that had been twisted by the malice of the Dark Lord and that this was all that he would be allowed to see. Morgoth took him to a place called Haudh-en-Nirnaeth, and set Hurin atop it. Then he bade him to look out and think on his wife and son, for they were now under the feet of Morgoth.

But still Hurin refused him, and then the wrath of Morgoth was kindled into an inferno and he said to Hurin: "Yet I may come at you and all your accursed house; and you shall be broken on my will, though you all were made of steel."

Then Morgoth stretched out his hand toward the home of Hurin and his offspring and said again: "Behold! The shadow of my thought shall lie upon them wherever they go and my hate shall pursue them to the ends of the world."

Then he took Hurin back to his fortress and set him upon a chair of stone in a high place from which Hurin could see the lands of his home. There Morgoth bound him, cursed him and set his power upon him, so that Hurin could not move from that place of stone. Neither could he die until Morgoth released him."

As Thengal's words died away, and were soon replaced with the whisper of the cool wind and the creaking of the cart and the horses hooves steady on the ground, Draco felt a shiver come over him. A chill on his skin such that he had never felt before, even when Voldemort had held the wizarding world in thrall.

"So Hurin was cursed to watch as Morgoth slaughtered his people and to know that his children would forever be pursued by the Dark Lord?" He asked quietly.

The dark silhouette of Thengal nodded. The light was very dim so Draco could not see the farmer's face, but he could sense that Thengal was as affected by the story as he was.

"Aye lad, and the curse of Morgoth rang true, for Hurin's son Turin and daughter Nienor were subject to great hardship and sorrow for the rest of their lives."

"What became of them?" Draco asked, although he wasn't sure he wanted to hear more about Morgoth.

"Lad, that is a tale I will save for another time, for it is even more sorrowful then the one of Hurin. The dark lord sent his servants into all the world to do his bidding oppressing the children of men such as Hurin."

"What were his servants called?" Draco asked. He hadn't asked so many questions since Potions class back at Hogwarts. Thengal hummed deep in his throat before answering.

"There were many great and terrible agents of Morgoth, but only one I know of by name. He bore the title of Sauron, he has long since been defeated like his predecessor. The lesser servants of Morgoth were the Orcs."

"Orcs?" Draco asked forgetting momentarily that he was still under the guise of a ruse. He cursed when he remembered and even more so when Thengal gave him a strange look.

"Aye lad, even in your remote village of England you have never seen or heard of Orcs. Surely stories were told around your campfires about the ferocity of those mad creatures."

It was time for some more lying. Luckily Draco had this area covered. "We've been strangely fortunate not to have encountered those creatures."

Thengal clicked his tongue at the horses and immediately the pace picked up. Draco glanced at Hermione, but she was still sleeping soundly.

"Lad, you are very lucky then. My cousin and I encountered a band of them a year ago. They had just slaughtered an entire village." Thengal shuddered. "It's an image I've never been able to get out of my head. Right before they attack, there is always a storm of clouds that cover the sun. The air they send forth ahead of them is a foul poisonous fume. Their skin is black and leathery, faces mangled by the slaughters of war. Their eyes are usually black but sometimes can appear yellow and their hair is greasy and white as snow. They come in varying shapes and sizes and they are immensely strong and fast."

Draco shivered. "Are you sure we won't run into any of them on this road at night?" he asked looking around nervously. Thengal shook his head. "We may, but if we do, there are weapons in the back. I trust you know how to wield a sword Master Draconis?"

If Thengal had turned around, he would've seen Draco lip syncing his curses at a furious velocity. It was occurring that to the young Slytherin that they were indeed a strange land, where knowing how to fight with a sword and communicate with monsters were paramount stipulations. He was also realizing how woefully underprepared he and Hermione were for their stay in Middle Earth.

"But leave us not worry about things that may not be," Thengal said, snapping the reins across the back of the horses one more time. There was a decisive whinny and the cart picked up speed. Draco gripped the edge of the cart tighter as Thengal resumed his tale.

"The creation of the Orcs was a work wrought by Morgoth, who bent the will of these beasts to him, they now served him only. As they didn't have a will of their own Morgoth found it much easier to use them to carry out his vile purposes. Destroying everything of beauty that the other beings had wrought. He was the embodiment of evil. And he had many servants, some of which who served him not through the removal of their will. Morgoth was a spirit of power, and power is a larger entrapment then wealth or beauty, because through one, you automatically achieve the other."

Draco grimaced. He could certainly understand that. After all Voldemort had been a dark lord obsessed with power and purification and terrified of death. So obsessed in fact that he had split his soul into multiple parts and hid them in certain classified objects, making killing him that much more difficult.

"So what became of Morgoth?" Draco asked. Thengal, whose face was half turned toward his in an attempt to make the conversation a little less formal, suddenly turned away. "There are many theories as to what became of the dark lord, lad. But all the free peoples of Middle Earth are concerned with is the fact that he is no more. The elves fought against him, and all his work was undone."

Draco frowned. Thengal had summed all of that up a little too neatly. He had a feeling that there was something that wasn't being said. But he had had enough of Dark Lords to last himself a life time. And if there had been one that had been more deadly and dangerous then Lord Voldemort, well the blonde didn't really want to know.

"Is the young lass still slumbering?" Thengal asked absently and Draco blinked having to refocus again that someone was talking to him.

"Yes, I think having our horses stolen made her somewhat tense, so she was more tired than I think even she thought."

"Aye, a young lady like that shouldn't be out in the forests of the world at such dark times without some kind of protection."

Draco wanted to point out to Thengal that he and Hermione were sufficiently protected in their own way, but he decided that the farmer wouldn't see the use in a pair of pointy wooden sticks. Still he wanted to assure the farmer that they weren't completely defenseless but even as he opened his mouth to do so, an enormous yawn erupted from the back of his throat and he barely covered it with his hand.

Unfortunately, Thengal heard him and he uttered a deep laugh right from his belly. "Perhaps you should rest young master. The night is late and it will not do if we are attacked to have you stumbling around like a doddering drunkard."

"Whose going to keep you company if you should start to fall asleep?" Draco protested and the man chuckled again.

"I have traveled this country many times Master Draconis. I am well versed in the art of keeping awake. Sleep, I will wake you when morning comes."

Not having to be told twice, Draco pulled the piles of herbs and spices more carefully around him and Hermione before laying down next to her.

The last thing he remembered was the strong smell of the plants filling his nostrils as a wonderful warm weight settled into his muscles. With the story of Morgoth and Hurin still echoing in the caverns of his mind, he drifted off to sleep.

Ω

**I would like to point out for those of you that don't know that the story Thengal told Draco, is a work that is found in J.R.R Tolkien's The Children of Hurin. When you have time I encourage you to go check it out. Its a fabulous story. None of it is mine, no matter how much I might wish otherwise, nor do I own Lord of the Rings or Harry Potter (sad face) So what do you guys think? Hermione and Draco have arrived in Middle Earth with only the clothes on their backs and the wands in their hands, and great adventures are to come for the pair! I was quite surprised at the response this story has received and I'm very pleased at how much you guys seem to like it. Please continue to comment and follow, it means the world to me. Until next time...happy reading everyone!**


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3: The Road Goes Ever On and On

It was not the voice of the farmer that woke Hermione from her slumber, but rather the soft gentle hand of the sun as it swept across her face, peeking through the dark curtain of her hair and coaxing her to open her eyes to greet its light.

She did so at first unwillingly, but as the rays grew warmer, she became more receptive to the shine and slowly uncovered her eyes to look on its golden brilliance.

The sun was shining down on her from an azure blue cloudless sky, a cool breeze ruffled her hair and she stretched, suppressing a groan as her stiff muscles protested.

Draco was curled up next to her, tucked almost into a fetal position which she realized with surprise was his way of blocking out the cold. Hermione cursed quietly. She had thought only of her own comfort and none of his, he must have been freezing!

Quickly she pulled off the thick cloak resting on her shoulders and that was still fastened at her throat and spread it out over the blonde. Immediately the Slytherin's hunched shoulders relaxed and his muscles loosened in his sleep, a telltale sign that he was growing warmer.

Hermione smiled at him. Having never seen him sleep before, she was surprised to see just how peaceful and relaxed he looked. The lips she had so often seen bearing a sneer, had pulled up into a small smile. He looked almost angelic, Hermione realized.

The next second, she wanted to smack herself. Where the hell had that come from? Draco Malfoy was anything but angelic. He was cunning, resourceful, intelligent and certainly far too attractive for his own good….but angelic? Hermione hadn't been blind to the whispers in the Great Hall and in the common rooms. The years had certainly been kind to the blonde. Hermione may not have especially liked the Slytherin, but she sure as hell wasn't dead. Although she would put her wand through her brain before she would admit that to him.

Hermione carefully sat up and looked out from the side of the cart as it creaked and rumbled its way across the landscape that was much the same as the night before. The plains of Rohan, as Thengal called them, still dipped and rose fluidly in the morning light. The mountains still rose and fell away to the rear of them and the witch could still make out the wild green tangle of Fangorn Forest, which from the outside was beginning to look more and more like a jungle and less and less like a wood.

They were certainly strange names. Hermione didn't think she would be able to become accustomed to how beautiful Middle Earth was. If only Britain had had places such as this, she might never have left.

She stretched her arms up again and saw that the farmer was still sitting atop the cart in much the same position as he had been in the night before. His posture had not changed at all.

"Good morning, Thengal," she said. The farmer turned in his seat and offered her a wide smile.

"Good morning lass, did you sleep well?" He asked in his low gravelly voice made rougher by a slight fatigue. Hermione's smile grew as wide as his as she nodded.

"Very well, it was actually the best sleep I have had in a long time. Which is strange because said sleep occurred at the bottom of a wooden cart of all things."

Thengal chuckled, "It's the air lass. I've often been told that the fresh air sweeping down from the Misty Mountains can do more to cure illness then any tonic a healer can prescribe."

Hermione nodded, fully acknowledging that this was a strange and wonderful country that she was anxious to know more of.

"Have you been awake all night?" Thengal nodded, "Aye." Hermione's eyes widened.

"You must be exhausted," she exclaimed. "Why do you not pull the cart to one side so that you can rest?"

Thengal uttered a deep laugh that went all the way down to the pit of his stomach. "Like I told your husband last night, I have traversed this country many a time, oftentimes at night. So lass what you think is exhausting is not half so much for me."

"Very well," Hermione conceded. "How long did Draco stay awake after I fell asleep?" she asked curiously after a moment of silence. She wondered what he had said to the farmer. Thengal clucked his tongue at the horses who picked up their pace slightly.

"The young master seemed quite anxious to learn everything he could of this country and its people, so we told stories until very late."

Hermione cursed inwardly, that had sounded very interesting, she wished she had stayed awake long enough to hear it. If anything hearing about the history and mythology of Middle Earth would take her mind off of her and Draco's abysmal circumstances.

She had no idea how long they were going to be there and the witch only had definite assurance until they reached this town called Bree of what would happen.

She was about to open her mouth and ask Thengal when exactly they would reach Bree, when a yawn interrupted her.

Draco sat up and stretched his arms behind his head working the kinks out, before he saw that Hermione was awake and offered her a small smile.

"Good morning," he said comely. "Did you sleep well?" Hermione returned his tiny smile. "Yes, it is the same answer I gave Thengal."

Draco bid the same greeting to the farmer who responded in kind before inquiring just how long it would be until they were to arrive in the village of Bree.

Thengal rubbed his chin and was quiet for a moment as if calculating something. Hermione heard the gentle hum of the birds as they flew past and even though it was the early spring from what she could tell, the little telltale signs of pink and orange blossoms could be seen poking through the tall brown grass to smile up at the three travelers as they passed. Hermione smiled in kind back at them.

"Well young master and mistress, it would seem I was wrong about the amount of time it would take to reach Bree. Yesterday before I chanced upon you, I had thought of the idea to pull the cart to one side for the night and arrive in Bree the day after this one. However, because we have ridden all night, we have cut our traveling time in half. This means that we should arrive in the town sometime in late afternoon."

Draco and Hermione exchanged glances. This was better than they had hoped for, while Thengal had been pleasant enough, neither the witch nor the wizard had any desire to traipse across the countryside for longer then was absolutely necessary.

"Thengal if we are going to reach Bree sometimes in the afternoon, perhaps it would be a prudent idea for you to rest for a bit. Draco can take the reins for a while, driving a cart is something he has experience with," Hermione ventured slowly, ignoring the look of livid disbelief on her pretend husband's face.

"Really?" Thengal asked turning to face the eighteen year old witch and wizard. Hermione could tell that Draco was barely keeping a straight face but he managed to nod, causing a bright smile to cross the farmer's.

"Very well then, but do wake me if there should be any trouble. I doubt we will run into bandits now that the sun is up, but there is no sense in being foolhardy."

Thengal then pulled the cart to the side of the road, where he dismounted from its head and offered the reins to Draco who took them somewhat reluctantly. Then the blonde and the brunette moved around to sit in the elevated seat at its head.

The farmer took their places in the back and within minutes his soft snores filled the quiet morning air. Hermione looked down and saw with a smile that he was fast asleep. Only then did Draco turn to her.

"Really? I drive a cart for a living? Next thing I know you'll be telling him that the farm animals live in the house with us and that we've given them all names."

"Don't be ridiculous, as if anyone would believe that. It was the quickest thing I could come up with on short notice. I'm grateful for Thengal giving us a ride to Bree, but he doesn't need to know the truth," Hermione replied.

"The truth? The truth being that we are two magical cyberspace travelers who have just dropped into another time, dimension and earth from our own and are trying to think of anyway in hell that we can get back? That truth?" Draco huffed as he took the reins and snapped them lightly across the backs of the horses. Slowly, they began moving again.

"Well maybe not that exactly…." Hermione trailed off as she searched for the appropriate words.

Draco huffed again but didn't say anything as he gripped the reins between his fingers. At the moment though, Hermione didn't want to say anything. There was far too much to look at.

As she and Draco sat atop the cart watching as it rumbled slowly across the countryside of Rohan, with the sunshine all around them, Hermione found herself smiling hugely. But she didn't know why. A gentle breeze blew down from the mountains and ruffled her hair causing her to turn and look at them in never ceasing wonder.

With each dip and turn in the run, the sun would play hide and seek with her eyes, ducking behind the mountain peaks and then peering out from its rugged crags to wink at her with its bright rays.

A deep breeze blew and ruffled the tops of the tall grasses in every direction causing a hushed whisper to race across the plains, over Hermione and Draco and off into the distance. But try as she might, the young witch couldn't hear what it said. However not knowing didn't bother her, she was content to just close her eyes and listen.

The sky was a deep azure blue, so bright that Hermione was almost afraid it wasn't real. Every so often, puffy white clouds would dart in front of the sun but would soon be blown past by the laughter of the wind.

The rocky crags of rock dotted across the plains reminded Hermione of little islands in a sea of brown natural fibers. She couldn't stop looking around and at the road ahead, expression of such wonder on her face that Draco began to laugh.

"What?" she asked turning to face him and he was struck by the look in her eyes. The normally chocolate brown irises were so bright they appeared almost gold. Her cheeks were flushed and he was sure he would have been able to see her smile for miles away.

"It's nothing," he said turning to face the horses again. "It's just…..I don't think I've ever seen you this happy before."

As soon as he said the words, he wished he could take them back because Hermione stared at him. Her look was almost gentle and Draco had never seen someone look at him like that before, not even his mother. It made him a little uncomfortable.

"I suppose I am," the brunette mused, "although I couldn't tell you why, because I don't rightly know myself. There's something about being in this place that makes me unbelievably…..happy. Is that strange?"

Draco thought about that for a moment, and then remembered how he had felt the night before with the moon and stars overhead, the mountains to his back and the road ever before him and he shook his head.

"No I don't think so, there's something about the air in this place that is full of adventure," he said slowly avoiding her gaze.

"That's a good way to put it," Hermione said softly. "By the way, what was the story that Thengal told you last night? I wish I had been able to stay awake for it."

Draco bit the edge of his lip as he recalled the tale of Morgoth and the horrible punishment Hurin had been forced to suffer.

"It was a story about a dark lord, far worse than Voldemort ever was." He felt Hermione flinch beside him as he uttered the name. In truth, he didn't like saying the name either, but the mad man was dead, there was nothing he could do to them now, and so the blonde continued.

"He was worse than Voldemort because he was incarnate, thousands of times more powerful, and had many more followers then the dark lord, and neither of them as crazy."

Hermione felt the mark on her arm sting as she remembered Bellatrix Lestrange. Then she shook her head. The maniac was dead just like her master, she wasn't able to hurt anyone anymore. She forced herself to keep listening as Draco hadn't stopped talking.

"Morgoth hated the elves and –"

"Wait a minute, the elves?" Hermione questioned. "Don't tell me Middle Earth has house elves too?" And she had left all of her things for S.P.E.W back home.

Draco shook his head vigorously, a strange excitement in his eyes. "No Granger, these elves are, as Thengal described them: tall and the wisest and fairest race in Middle Earth. It wouldn't surprise me if they looked kind of like us only much better looking."

Hermione was quiet for a moment as she pondered this bizarre transition from house elves to beautiful fair beings. Then she remembered something she had read in a book somewhere and her excitement mounted so that it matched the blonde's.

"I just thought of something," she said aloud and the Slytherin looked at her curiously.

"One summer before I went to Hogwarts, I read a fantasy novel about a different world called Palithia, it was inhabited by elves, dwarves, humans and fairies but the elves were looked upon with awe. The book said they looked like humans but their ears were slightly pointed and leaf shaped and they were taller than humans, like you said. They had long hair, were incredibly wise and possessed many magical gifts."

Draco's face perked up suddenly when she said the word. "Magic, so does that mean we can still use our wands?"

"I don't see why not," Hermione replied. "We haven't really tried. We just assumed that because we couldn't apparate, all other forms of magic couldn't be used as well. And that might be farther from the truth."

Draco glanced behind him at a sleeping Thengal and Hermione could read his mind instantly. "Not here," she hissed quickly placing a hand on his arm. "We don't know what kind of sleeper Thengal is and the last thing that I want is for him to wake up and see us practicing magic."

"We shouldn't have to be afraid of what others think about our abilities," Draco huffed.

"If that were true, then why was Hogwarts hidden away and the only ones who knew about it were witches and wizards and those associated with said witches and wizards?"

Draco bit his lip, much the same with Hermione, he hated it when she was right. He casually ran a hand through his hair, trying to think of a solution. However, and he had no bloody idea how she managed to do it, but the witch read his face again.

"We cannot try it, until we have a moment alone." She glanced down at her Vinewood wand which was still strapped to her side in the way that one would carry a knife.

Draco sighed. He still had a tight grip on the horses' reins and his posture was rigid. Aside from his calm tone of voice, he looked somewhat uncomfortable with the positioning of things. He had ridden horses before, but had never been in control of a team of them and every few seconds, he was sure they were going to bolt sending him, Hermione, Thengal and the rest of their cargo careening down the path.

Hermione, who had been studying his face carefully looked like she wanted to burst out laughing, but after seeing the glare he sent her way she wisely clamped her lips shut and stared straight ahead.

After a while Draco spoke up again, and this time he sounded almost hesitant. "Do….do you think we'll be able to find a way back?"

Hermione pursed her lips before looking at him and feeling her face tighten up like she had tasted something bad before she uttered the three words she hated most in all of the English language:

"I don't know."

Ω

For the next few hours, the witch and wizard didn't say a lot. They had far too much on their minds, and Hermione had all but forgotten the story Draco had started to tell her about the Dark Lord from Middle Earth.

Thengal was still asleep, but Hermione knew that not having the farmer managing his horses didn't really matter as they had still managed to make excellent progress. The mountains were fading away into the distance, and even though Hermione knew she would be able to see them for miles around, the majesty had faded somewhat because the detail of them was no longer visible.

It was quiet, but it was a nice kind of quiet. Definitely not like the silence of the Forbidden Forest which was eerie and had her jumping at every sound. The witch knew she would never be able to walk in there again without remembering that it was the place where Harry almost died.

Then again, it wasn't like she would be going in there anytime soon, given their current situation and all.

"Draco?" she asked turning her face toward him.

"Hmm?" the blonde asked absently. He appeared to be deep in thought. Hermione rubbed her hands together the way she always did when she was thinking of something.

"What the hell are we going to do when we reach Bree?"

Draco's hands which had been moving slightly with the soft movement of the reins as the horses moved, stayed.

"I don't know. I guess we could try and find a way to create a portkey, but to be honest with you I'm not sure it would work."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked. Draco ran a hand through his platinum blonde hair. "I mean, we're in a different world now, would we even be able to portkey back? You saw what happened when we tried to get back in the pool."

"Nothing happened."

"Exactly nothing happened. Portkeys can only be used once, and I have no idea how to go about finding another one. Its obvious apparating doesn't work. And if apparating doesn't work, how do we know that a portkey would?"

"Because a portkey brought us here."

"Yes, but that's all we know. We're in a bloody different dimension of magical cyberspace Granger. Apparating and using a portkey all follow the same basic magical principles. If one doesn't work how do we know that the other will?"

Hermione fell silent. He had a point, much as she hated to admit it. She ran a hand through her hair, frustrated.

"So then what do you suggest we do?" she asked, surprised that she managed to keep herself calm. Draco sighed.

"I don't know, but we're not going to be able to figure anything out until we get to Bree so would you please calm down?" Hermione frowned at his somewhat gentle tone of voice and forced herself to look up into those stormy blue grey eyes.

Only this time they weren't stormy. Hermione remembered a time when her parents had taken her to the seaside for a holiday when she was small. There had been a storm one night and when Hermione had woken up the next morning, the sky had been overcast, a pearl grey. And the ocean had been as calm as glass.

That was what Draco's eyes looked like right now. A calm and glassy sea flecked with shades of teal. Hermione realized she was staring, but at the moment she didn't care.

"Why should I trust you?" her voice dropped to a murmur. Part of her didn't like that she was asking this, but she had just fought a war. She needed to know.

Draco's voice dropped to a whisper, the same timbre her voice had, and Hermione almost missed his next words.

"Because I'm asking you to. And because we're all we've got."

Damn him and his logic! When had be turned into the rational one? That was supposed to be her job. After all, she was the one Harry and Ron looked to when there were problems.

_But he's not Harry and Ron, _a small voice in her head whispered. _He's much smarter than those two._

Hermione nearly cringed aloud. Where had that come from? There were many times when she had internally dissed her best friends, Ron especially, but to admit to herself that she was smarter than those two?

She shook her head, bringing herself back to the present where she realized that Draco was still looking at her, waiting for her response.

"Very well," she said and was surprised to see him relax slightly. "But as soon as we get to Bree, we find a portkey and get the hell out of here."

Draco nodded, but he didn't say anything rather choosing to look around at the scenery.

"Although I will admit, being here has been nice," the brunette conceded. Draco whirled to face her like she had stolen his punch line. His eyebrows raised up by his hairline. Hermione frowned at him. "What?"

"You like this place…..Middle Earth, I mean?"

Hermione's frown deepened. She had never heard the blonde stumble over his words before and to hear him do so now was both unfamiliar and a little concerning.

"Yes, I do. It's beautiful and there are a lot of other worse places we could be. We're not freezing. The people that we've met so far seem friendly, and we still have use of our magic. At least I think so. So all in all, I think Middle Earth, as opposed to any other world, is a very good place to be."

Draco frowned, as if the answer she had given him wasn't what she was expecting and he was a little disappointed to hear it. In truth, the blonde wasn't sure how he felt about this wondrous country, only that he had an intense desire to see more of it, to go deeper and farther and feel more then he had ever allowed himself to do before.

He didn't know what he wanted but somewhere deep inside him, he knew that he would regret if he left without seeing everything that Middle Earth had to offer. He shivered as he uttered the words in his mind. Even when they were said silently, the name was still affecting him.

As Hermione looked around, she felt unsure about what she felt. There was no doubting that being in this place was doing something to her. The freshness of the air, the majesty of the mountains, the vastness of the plains and the enormity of the skies, the radiance of the sunsets and the dazzling brilliance of the moon and stars, all of it made her heart quicken and her blood race in her veins.

She and Draco had surely stumbled upon a strange and wonderful world. But the strange part was what worried her. The mention of the elves had stimulated it, and Hermione was uncertain of how she felt being in a place inhabited by creatures of myth and fantasy. It was all just so bizarre and being as rational as she was, it wasn't computing yet in the witch's brain.

But she didn't have time to express that because just as she opened her mouth to do so, a loud yawn startled her and Draco.

Turning, the brunette faced Thengal and gave him a bright smile. "Did you sleep well sir?" she asked pleasantly. The farmer returned it. "Indeed, and I see that the two of you have made excellent progress with the horses. We should reach Bree within a few hours."

Draco handed the reins back to the farmer and wiped his hands on his jeans feeling slightly relieved. The two climbed into the back of the cart again and took up their former positions.

It was only then that Hermione glanced at the sky. She frowned. In the past couple of hours she had been so focused on looking at the scenery and talking to Draco, she hadn't paid attention to the weather.

Now as she did, her frown deepened. The clouds had begun to push their way across the sky and blotted out the azure blue strip. It wasn't dark out, but when the breeze blew it was considerably colder and Hermione shivered, but she wasn't sure if it was because of the weather or the feeling that something ominous was happening.

Draco and Thengal had begun to glance up as well. Their frowns matched hers. There was no rain falling, but that was the least of Hermione's worries. Draco locked eyes with her and it didn't help that he looked slightly nervous as well.

The path was ever before them and the rocky crags were still dotted across the plains of Rohan. But this time the wind was blowing harder and Hermione tugged her cloak across her shoulders and fastened it before drawing her hood halfway up on top of her head.

As they moved along the road, the witch looked around and saw that they were coming to a place where the craggy outcroppings of rock were lining the sides of the road, fencing them in on either side. She could still make out the plains of grass between the rocks, but she started to feel a little nervous when she saw that they seemed to go on for a while.

The wind was whipping up into a fevered pitch, but other than that, it was utterly silent. The horses nickered nervously and Thengal said something to reassure them.

Hermione glanced at Draco as they slowly moved into the center of the rock piles. One of his hands was gripping the side of the cart for all he was worth, and the other was hovering down by his pocket where his wand was. Other than that he was completely expressionless.

The sky was the same grey shade it always was when it betrayed that a storm was approaching. She glanced ahead of them, but all she could see was the road and the large rocks on either side.

"Don't worry young master and mistress. These rocks have been here for as long as I've been traveling this country, we should be through them in a few moments."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but the words in her throat died when all of a sudden, somewhere up the road behind them…..there came the sound of horse's hooves.

But this horse, for it was one singular horse, wasn't walking like theirs were. It wasn't even trotting. They couldn't even say it was galloping.

No, this horse was _thundering _toward them at a terrifying, ferocious speed.

Hermione swallowed hard and against her better judgment, slowly turned….and looked around.

About a kilometer down the road, which was actually quite clear and she could see well enough, a horse and rider were coming into view.

Now the knowledge that someone or something is coming up behind you in unnerving enough, but as soon as Hermione looked at it, she felt her pulse quicken because of just what kind of beast it was.

This was the largest horse Hermione had ever seen. It was a midnight black so dark it appeared almost blue, and it moved along the road as if it were smoke floating over the ground. It was breathing heavily, she could hear its great breaths even from this distance, getting steadily louder as it came ever on and on.

But it was the figure astride the dark horse that caused Hermione's breath to catch in her throat.

Its black robes billowed out behind it like it was creating its own wind. It was tall and rode the horse like a king. The hood of its black cloak was pulled up over its head so its face was hidden and the only part of it that Hermione could see were its hands.

There was nothing human about these hands however, because no skin or joints were visible. Instead, its hands were shrouded in metal armor that gripped the leather reins far too calmly.

That was when Hermione began to fully understand how dangerous Middle Earth was.

Thengal turned and the cheerful look that had been so evident upon his face shattered like glass. Hermione watched as the cheerful farmer they had met the day previously dissolved into a shaking shell.

His hands on the reins began to tremble, and the horses, feeling his anxiety began to nicker nervously. Draco glanced back as well and his ivory features grew even paler. However, the hands that were wrapped firmly around his wand were steady.

"Quickly!" Thengal hissed, jerking the both of them out of the eerie quiet they were in. "Young master and mistress, keep low in the cart and pull the bags around yourselves, he mustn't see you!"

Hermione wanted to ask why but that desire was overshadowed, by the screaming in her head to shut up and hide. She was used to fighting and would do so with her last breath, but there were just some creatures that weren't meant to be fought. And she had a feeling that this was one of them. She didn't like the feeling, she had been hiding for the last year. But she was in a different world, so in the end, the two did as Thengal asked. Draco grabbed the sacks of herbs that he could reach and shoved around and on top of him and Hermione.

Once they were firmly packed in bags, Hermione peered out from one of the cracks between the boards on the walls of the cart along with Draco so they could get a better look at their pursuer.

It, for this thing didn't seem to have a gender, was only fifty feet behind them and gaining fast. Hermione took a deep breath and raised a whispered question.

"Thengal, what is that?" she asked just loud enough so that the farmer could hear her but no one else. Carefully, while still kneeling, she unstrapped her wand from her waist and mirrored Draco's position.

For a moment, the farmer didn't answer, and when he did, his now hollow voice trembled slightly.

"That is a being which should not exist in the human world. A creature of black magic….a servant of evil."

_Why am I having the strangest sense of déjà vu? _Hermione thought to herself.

"Granger, in a few seconds, it's going to be on us. That thing looks even worse than Voldemort, so keep very still and don't say a word."

If the situation had been a bit more relaxed, Hermione would have rolled her eyes at the blonde's ridiculous statement. But as it was her mouth was so dry she couldn't even respond with her usual snappy comeback.

The pounding of the other horse's hooves on the road had suddenly become so loud that it drowned out any other whispered comments the two might have made. Hermione could tell by the sound that it had come parallel and had just passed the cart.

To her horror however, it didn't carry on at its usual speed. Instead, it slowed to match their pace and then she felt the cart jerk to a halt as Thengal pulled the horses to a stop and then there was a terrible jerk as the cart was thrown sideways. It took all of Hermione's self-control not to squeal

Hermione peered out the whole in the side of the cart and had to put a clamp on her dismay, when she saw that the rider on the black horse had sped past their cart and stopped a few feet in front of it, causing Thengal to jerk on the reins hard, which in turn made the horses jerk sideways pulling the cart halfway into a ditch on the side of the road.

The concussion knocked Thengal from his seat, spilling him into the ditch, followed by a sharp cry of pain.

Without even thinking of the danger to herself, and completely forgetting that she was in a different world with no idea of what she was getting into, Hermione pushed aside the bags of herbs and jumped off the back of the cart. She raced over to Thengal and gently raised his head from the ground so she could look into his dazed eyes.

"Are you alright?" she whispered worriedly. He didn't answer, but a sudden heavy weight hitting the ground did.

Only then did Hermione remember that in her haste to ensure Thengal's wellbeing, she had dropped her wand in the cart.

_Damn Circe! Damn Morgana! What the hell am I going to do?!_

The sound of metal shaking, drew her attention, and Hermione, trying very hard not to shake, turned around.

The figure in the black cloak had dismounted from his horse and was coming toward her. He looked very similar to a Dementor, but he didn't float across the ground, and this being was far larger, at least seven feet. With each step he took, she could feel the ground vibrate and the sound of metal chain links clinking together was quiet loud.

But other than that, what made this creature so unnerving was the fact that it didn't make a sound, not even its breathing could be heard. Other than the sound of its footsteps, it was silent as death.

A hardly pleasing metaphor given their current situation.

The black rider stopped a few feet away from them. Hermione who at this point had taken note of the fact that it had drawn its sword, swallowed hard. Of all the ways to die, this was certainly not something she had thought of.

But she wasn't going to let him hurt Thengal. This was a farmer who had done no wrong and been nothing but kind to them. He was the first face they had seen in this strange new world, and Hermione wasn't going to let the incarnation of the grim reaper lay a hand on him.

It was either a very brave or very foolish thing to do but she got to her feet and stepped in front of the farmer.

Then she looked the creature right in the spot where its face should have been, hissed: "Don't touch him."

She had no idea where the words came from and she could feel her hands shaking, but somehow, she kept her voice steady. She wasn't prepared for what came next however.

"You misunderstand."

Of all the voices she had heard from evil creatures, this was certainly not what she had been expecting.

The figure in the dark cloak didn't have a low voice as she assumed. It was high pitched, but certainly didn't carry the soprano lilt of a woman. It was high enough and shrill enough that she wanted to put her hands over ears because it felt as if a hypodermic needle was being stabbed into her auditory canal. Its voice was a hissing stabbing sound that jabbed at her.

Both of the words it had said were enunciated carefully as if the creature wanted the witch to understand very carefully before he killed her.

Hermione had to swallow a few times before she could respond, whatever nerve she had managed to work up a few minutes ago all gone.

"Then….then what do you want?" she asked barely above a whisper.

The cloaked figure took another step toward her and Hermione had to resist the urge to step back.

"It is not him that I have come for."

Its head had not turned to the right or to the left, and Hermione wanted to wilt under its gaze. She had been under the scrutiny of Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort, but they had nothing on this thing. It almost felt as if a burning sensation was emanating from the hollow abyss behind its cloak. And suddenly Hermione knew she was facing down a creature that would have made Voldemort and all his minions cower. She didn't even feel her knees shaking.

All she was conscious of, was the fact that the creature had reached out a heavily armored hand to her face.

The closer it got to her, the more incapable Hermione was of moving. In fact, the seconds seemed to be ticking by in slow motion. As his hand grew near, Hermione suddenly began to feel flushed and the flashes of the burning smoldering eye she had seen in the pool and had almost forgotten, were now pulled to the forefront of her consciousness with all too poignant clarity.

Her breathing got heavier, but no matter what she did, she couldn't move away. It was as if her feet were locked in place. All she saw were those cold dark hands reaching out toward her throat…

"Get the hell away from her you bastard."

And with those words, the heaviness vanished, causing Hermione to nearly stumble from the sudden loss of it.

The dark horseman whirled around and Hermione saw that Draco had dismounted from the cart and was standing in front of it gripping both of their wands in his hands.

Hermione had never been so relieved to see anyone in her life, which she would later think odd because this was Draco Malfoy. But at the moment, she was so relieved to even wonder why.

Draco was the picture of authority and complete calm. His face still looked a little pale, but the fists that were gripped around their wands were perfectly steady. His grey eyes had turned to a screaming silver and he looked more powerful than Hermione had ever seen him

The dark rider looked hissed and took a step toward him, but Draco simply raised his wand, and the creature froze.

"You will leave now," he said. It wasn't a request. His voice was quiet, but deadly serious. The hissing from the rider grew even more prominent, and with a sound like cold glass breaking, it drew its long sword from its sheath.

"I do not take orders from children!" the grim reaper snarled. Its voice had gotten even higher pitched and grating. But Draco smiled, a calm smile that betrayed complete control over the situation.

"You are now." With these words he raised both wands and the rider stumbled as if struck. Hermione blinked, realizing that some type of invisible force was pushing it backward. Draco took a step forward, causing the creature to retreat further back to its horse.

A few seconds passed, and it must have realized that they were at a stalemate because it snarled again in its hissing voice before swinging itself up onto the horse.

Before taking its leave however, it looked at the blonde and the brunette and snarled out something in a strange language before digging its heels into the sides of the black stallion and racing away down the path behind them.

A few seconds passed with nothing but absolute silence.

Draco was the first one to move. He hurried over to Hermione and gripped her hands between his, eyes wordlessly looking her over for injury. "Are you alright?" he asked. The screaming silver of his eyes had dulled back to grey, but Hermione knew it would be a long time before she would be able to forget the expression that had been on his face.

She nodded, not sure if she should say anything. "Malfoy that…..that was amazing! How the hell did you do that? That thing was more frightening then Voldemort ever was. In fact it would probably order him around."

A tiny smile tugged the sides of the blonde's face upwards. "There was a reason I never wanted to be a Death Eater Granger. I was tired of people like Voldemort ordering me around. That bastard was no different. He wanted something, but I wasn't going to give it to him."

Hermione blinked, realizing it was the closest she had ever heard Draco come to talking about his time with Voldemort.

A sudden groan drew their attention and Hermione realized with a curse that Thengal was still lying in the ditch! She and Draco exchanged a glance before hurrying over and helping the farmer to sit up.

He rubbed the side of his head groaning, vision finally coming into focus. "What has happened?" he asked looking at the two of them.

Hermione and Draco exchanged glances, an unspoken agreement passing between the two of them that they wouldn't tell the farmer a word of what had transpired while he was knocked out. Hermione nearly panicked, trying to come up with the perfect lie. Thankfully, like the resourceful Slytherin that he was, Draco stepped in again.

"We remained hidden in the back like you directed. But the rider passed by us so close to the cart that you had to pull on the reins hard. In doing so, you lost control of the horses and the cart plunged headlong into the ditch," he said smoothly.

Hermione shook her head. She knew he was a Slytherin but why did he have to be so damn good at lying?

Thengal frowned as he looked at each of them in turn. "He didn't stop the cart?" The two shook their heads. He seemed to be examining their expressions carefully as if trying to discern for himself whether or not there was any falsehood. But when they assured him again that all was well, he nodded.

Hermione reached down and carefully helped the farmer to his feet as he breathed a sigh of relief. "Well young master, young mistress, we have had a close call. I have not seen one of those foul creatures in an age. Not since a darker power ruled these lands."

He was about to climb up into his seat when Hermione laid a hand on his shoulder. "Thengal do you suppose it's a good idea for you to be driving a cart when you've just been knocked on the head? Why don't you sit in the back and Draco will drive it again?"

She said all this without even looking at the blonde, although out of the corner of her eye, she did see him cringe.

Thengal looked between the two of them before running a hand through his thinning hair and sighing softly.

"I suppose you do make a fair point lass. Alas I am not as young as I used to be. Much too old to be thrown from horses into ditches."

He said these last words with a hint of wistfulness and for a moment, Hermione felt a little sorry for him. It was not at all nice to realize that you were getting old, and losing your livelihood. But the thought faded the second Hermione's brain processed it.

"Thengal, please lie down and rest. Between the two of us, we can manage the cart. Given your head injury you are in no condition to be driving it." She had no idea how the words had come out so smoothly but they did.

Thengal finally gave a grunt of agreement before allowing Hermione to help him around to the back of the cart and sitting him down.

When she came back to the front of it, she could see that Draco had taken the bridle of the lead horse and was slowly but surely coaxing it out of the mud. He hadn't noticed her yet, and Hermione stood just behind the cart so he wouldn't notice her until she wanted him to.

She still didn't understand what the hell he had done to make that bastard back off. She hadn't heard him utter a spell, hadn't even seen him dismount from the cart.

But the minute she had heard his voice, it was like all the fear had dropped off of her. She remembered who she was. The image of the eye had disappeared and she could focus. Hermione didn't know how he had managed to be so calm.

And coming to her rescue like he was a knight in shining armor?

That was new.

She watched as he tugged the horses back onto the road and slowly the cart began to follow. Since when did he have such a way with these creatures?

There were many questions she had for Draco Malfoy. She didn't understand him…..the witch wasn't sure if she ever would. Everything he did was confusing, random and seemed to have no purpose. He was so damn perplexing! But that made him a puzzle, something to be figured out.

Hermione didn't like being confused, she didn't like being in the dark and she sure as hell didn't like it when she didn't understand something.

Looking at him as he finally succeeded in getting the horses back onto the road, Hermione made a silent promise to herself.

She was going to have Draco Malfoy figured out if it was the last thing that she ever did.

Ω

The blonde and brunette were once again sitting atop the cart. Draco was holding the reins in his hands again, and Thengal was sitting in the back quietly, but they both knew he wasn't asleep.

The sky was still grey, but the wind wasn't blowing quite so much anymore and Hermione slowly took down the hood of her cloak.

But instead of going faster, Draco swatted the horses with the reins in an attempt to get them to quicken their pace. They obliged and within minutes, they were out of the maze of rocks and back onto the plains of Rohan.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief, as they left the area behind them. She desperately wanted to ask Draco what had happened with the dark rider but with Thengal within hearing, she didn't think it wise.

"How much farther to Bree?" Draco calmly as the old farmer. There was a pause and then the cart creaked as their driver pulled himself onto his knees so he could lean between them.

"Another couple of hours," he supplied. "We should reach just before nightfall. It would have been shorter if that blasted creature hadn't run the cart off the road."

Hermione and Draco exchanged glances. "Thengal….what was that thing?" Hermione asked, casting a quick glance in Draco's direction, but the blonde didn't say anything.

There was a long pause and then the farmer uttered a sigh that seemed to come straight from his gut.

"Long ago lass, a dark lord ruled these lands. He was called by the name of Sauron. At the time of his rise to power, the races of elves, men dwarves and orcs were ruled separately."

"Orcs?" Hermione asked, shooting an uneasy glance at Draco. He gave his head a subtle almost imperceptible shake, and patted her knee, indicating he would tell her later.

This both pacified and surprised the witch, because aside from the hand holding in the pool, there had been no physical contact between them. Not that there ever had been in the first place. But is still puzzled her. A moment later, she shoved the thought aside when she realized that Thengal was still talking.

"But they were all of them deceived. For in the land of Mordor, to the east of us, the dark lord began amassing his forces. What you saw was only one of a number…..one of nine. They were called the Nazgul. It was said that they had all been destroyed when Sauron fell."

"So…..so why is one of them riding around Middle Earth threatening people now?" Draco asked in an uncertain voice shooting a glance at Hermione. Thengal sighed again.

"Mayhap they were not as gone as we once thought. They are not from the world of the living. They are drawn to power Master Draconis, you cannot kill them."

And on that happy note, the farmer clammed up and refused to say anything further about the Nazgul they had seen.

Ω

It was soon after their ordeal that Hermione and Draco fell silent. She was dying to ask him how he had done what he had earlier, but seeing as how Thengal was still awake, she wasn't willing to risk it.

All in all, she had been unnerved. She didn't want to admit it after facing down Voldemort and enduring torture from Bellatrix Lestrange. But that thing was unlike either of them because it was such an unknown.

It moved and rode a horse like a regular human would, but she would have to have lost all of her senses to think that its voice wasn't sinister and unearthly. Plus its height was another factor. It was so tall. It exuded no other emotion then a burning ambition, a desire for power.

Hermione knew that this probably wouldn't be the last time she would see this creature as long as she and Draco stayed in Middle Earth.

But the more she thought about it, the more she realized that that thought didn't bother her as much as it would have had it been a few months earlier. Was she tired of war? Certainly. But she sure as hell wasn't about to run from a fight.

It wasn't who she was. The witch had spent her years at Hogwarts ducking out of the way of the powerful purebloods who sought to humiliate and degrade her. She stole a glance at Draco Malfoy. People just like him.

But she shook her head, putting that thought from her mind. Blood purity didn't matter anymore, not while they were here at least. The blonde and brunette were finally on the same page and level. For once there was nothing to help them besides themselves.

If that thing wanted a fight…..bring it on. Hermione Jean Granger was through with being the underdog. Here in a world where no one knew her, she was going to put all of her history behind her.

Then she blinked, wondering where the thought had come from. She wasn't seriously considering the detriments of going back was she?

The brunette couldn't deny that it was refreshing being in a place where no one knew her, her past wouldn't be an issue and she had the freedom to do whatever she wanted. She cast a sideways glance at the blonde sitting next her. His tone from earlier had indicated at least partially that Middle Earth had intrigued him as well.

A million thoughts were whirling through Hermione's brain. Some from her confrontation from earlier and some from the things that Malfoy had said.

But now wasn't the time to address them. She felt like she would mentally exhaust herself if she did.

So instead, she turned and looked at Thengal was looking out over the side of the cart into the plains of Rohan, if face illuminated by the dull brightness of the sun which had won its battle with the clouds. It was a weak light, but still strong enough to light up the plains in a weak glow that looked more copper then yellow. The rock outcroppings cast dark long shadows behind them as the road went ever on and on with the same scenery.

Finally, Hermione had had enough of the silence. She turned around and touched Thengal's arm gently causing the old farmer to look up startled. When he saw that it was only her, he smile gently.

"Is everything alright lass?" he asked. Hermione nodded. "There's something that I wanted to ask you," she began.

"And what would that be?"

She paused, aware that Draco had cast a curious glance in her direction.

"If you travel so often, how do you get to spend time with your family? It must be very difficult for you."

There was a long pause then followed by a very deep sigh. "My children all live in different parts of Rohan lass, they're all grown so I only see them a few times a year. My wife, bless her soul has passed on. I still need to feed myself, and it is slightly easier than farming so I have made this my livelihood for the past decade."

"But surely this is dangerous work! What if bandits were to come upon you?" The look that Thengal gave her was calmer then she would have thought possible.

"Lass I am not retaining my youth. My time on this earth is growing shorter, of what use can I be to the world if I were to remain in my fields and tend my horses. Let it not be said that Thengal son of Thangore spent the last year of his life hiding."

Next to her, Draco blinked. Voldemort, a fool and a mad man who had possessed a fear of death, could have learned something from this man. Thengal's view of dying was completely simplistic and yet utterly profound.

"You're children, what are they like?" Hermione asked softly. It was at this point that Draco turned out. Not because he didn't want to pay attention to their temporary host, but his thoughts were drifting back to their encounter with the cloaked figure on the road a few miles back.

He had been a fool to think that Middle Earth was without its dangers. But that? What Thengal had said was completely true. Voldemort wouldn't have stood a chance against one of those things. He might have been the one serving it.

But then how had he gotten it to leave? He had been holding his and Hermione's wands, but he hadn't said a word. It…..it was almost like he hadn't needed to. As soon as the cart and Thengal were thrown into the ditch, Hermione had been out of the vehicle in a flash. Unfortunately a few of the heavier sacks had landed on top of him and strong as he was, it had taken a few minutes for him to push them off and to reach the wands which had been thrown to the opposite ends of the cart.

He had almost been too late. If he had been a second after, that….that thing might have taken Hermione and been off.

Thengal's words were coming back to him about how Hermione was fairer than any in the land and that alone would make her a target. He cast a sideways glance at the witch, as she conversed easily with the farmer.

Part of him wanted to curse her for throwing herself out of the cart like that. It was exactly the kind of bullheaded and unthinking attitude that was so common of the house of the lion. The other part of him grudgingly admitted that had been a brave thing to do.

But that didn't betray the fact that that creature had seen them. He had heard what it had said to Hermione.

_"__It is not him that I have come for."_

The blonde suppressed the urge to shudder. What the hell did that mean? Less than twenty four hours and already they were moving targets. Merlin, they just couldn't catch a break could they?

"Draco?" The Slytherin blinked when he realized she was talking to him.

"Yes?" he asked turning to face her.

"Thengal says when we reach Bree, we should head for the sign of the Prancing Pony. It is a very well frequented place and he says that we might be able to find someone there who could help us procure a way home."

He caught the telltale gleam in the brunette's eyes and nodded slowly. Thengal nodded as well.

"Aye lad, be sure you don't visit any of the other places in town, at least not until it is light out."

There was a silence as both the blonde and the brunette wondered what on earth the town of Bree would be like after dark and whether or not they should be worried for their wellbeing. Hermione wanted to shudder about what had almost happened on the road not too long ago. She needed something to taker her mind off of this crazy situation.

"Thengal?" she asked absently.

"Yes lass?" the farmer replied.

"Would you tell us one of the stories of Middle Earth? I didn't have the pleasure of hearing them last night."

There was a slight chuckle from the farmer, but after a few minutes he obliged. "Where did I leave off last night Master Draconis?"

"Hurin had been left in the high place by Morgoth and he couldn't move, speak or die, until the dark lord released him," Draco replied. Hermione frowned.

"A dark lord?"

Thengal nodded. "Aye lass. A dark lord more great and terrible then any who have walked this earth because his flesh was incarnate and he could only be destroyed by one as great as he.

There was a fortress in the far north of Middle Earth where he dwelt entitled Angband. It was a place of sorrow and great pain, for those who Morgoth ensnared and brought to the Hells of Iron as they were called, never saw the light of day again."

Hermione barely suppressed a shudder. An incarnate dark lord was the stuff of nightmares and the one to whom Thengal spoke of sounded more terrible then Voldemort could ever be. For while his brief reign had been terrible, he was still a mortal man.

"You were going to tell me of the fate of Hurin's son," Draco interjected, pulling Hermione from her thoughts. She cast a frown at the blonde at the mention of the strange name, but he shook his head slightly, indicating he would tell her later. She shrugged but nodded.

Thengal sat back in the cart and leaned against the side. He stuck the edge of his pipe in his mouth and blew contentedly for a moment before continuing.

"I feel I must warn you lad, that the tragedy of Hurin's son Turin is even greater than that of his father. His tale, like his father's ends in death, but not before he defeated one of the greatest monsters set upon him by Morgoth. A powerful spirit, who took the form of a wingless dragon of fire. Its name was Glaurung and it was an intelligent beast who through great cunning was able to manipulate the fate of Turin, Hurin's son so that the curse Morgoth placed upon him would be fulfilled."

"How is that possible?" Hermione asked, casting a sideways glance at Draco, but the blonde kept his eyes on the road. "How can a creature like that influence the fates of men?"

"Like I said lass, Glaurung was an intelligent creature. His power was given to him by Morgoth. Like I told young master Draconis last night, Morgoth was able to extend his power to all those that served him so they could travel throughout the land and do his bidding. The only detriment to this course of action was that is caused the dark lord to become more bound to the earth.

But on to the story of Turin. Because his father denied, refused and mocked Morgoth, the eye of the dark lord was ever on Hurin's offspring, and he made good on his promise to pursue Turin to the ends of the earth.

When Turin was but a child, invaders came to his home, His mother Morwen, fearing for his safety, sent Turin on ahead of her. She had received news of the fate of his father and did not want to leave their house in her grief. But her desire was to see Turin safe, so she sent him away, hoping that he would make contact with the elves."

"And did he?" Hermione asked. Thengal nodded somberly.

"He did, but it was not the happiest time of Turin's life. For while the king accepted Turin and even after a time adopted the mortal as his son, there were others who despised Turin's presence and sought for ways to make trouble for him."

"Why didn't they like him?" Hermione asked curiously. Hearing of the elves was fascinating her, it was like all of her storybooks were coming to life before her eyes.

"Do not misunderstand me lass, there were many who did. But there were some, few though they may be, who believed that the presence of a human in the elven king's court was disgraceful. Because elves were immortal and possessed many magical gifts, they believed themselves to be better than men you see."

"Why does that sound familiar?" Hermione murmured to herself. If she would have been looking, she would have seen the blonde next to her flinch slightly. But he remained strangely quiet as the horses continued to plod on down the road.

"To continue," Thengal said having not even noticed the interruption. "There were some who sought to drive him out and being enraged with their abuses, Turin left the elves."

"That's not fair!" Hermione exclaimed indignantly, "He shouldn't have to leave just because they were too coward to accept him."

A muscle jerked in Draco's cheek but she didn't notice.

"Aye, t'is true lass. But if the truth be known, Turin was unhappy with the life of elves even though he had received the blessing of the king. So this merely gave him an added excuse to leave," Thengal said calmly.

"Where did he go?"

"For a time, the son of Hurin wandered among the wilds. But it was always heavy on his mind as to the whereabouts of his father. You see, he didn't really know if he was in fact dead or being held as a prisoner. After a time, he joined together with a band of men and they became the respective vigilantes of the land. Middle Earth was teeming with Orcs at this time, much more so then then they are now."

"Orcs?"

Draco hid a smirk by turning his head to the side. Maybe he should've woken Hermione for the story time last night.

"Aye, but I'm sure your husband will inform you of them at a later time. Now where was I?" the old farmer mused rubbing his chin.

"Turin was wandering the wilds with his band of men," Draco supplied quietly.

"Ah yes, thank you lad. Now Turin, like his father was a valiant and ruthless warrior. But his life had hardened him. He had become a ruthless and deadly man. There were few who crossed him, elves or men for that matter.

However, the elven king and his personal court mourned the loss of the son of Hurin and one of the elves known by the name of Beleg who had been with Turin since he first chanced upon the elves decided to go and search for him.

Beleg was as great a warrior as Turin, but his disposition was far more malleable. He was compassionate and cared for his friend so it was that he sought many months before he had found him."

"But he did find him?" Hermione asked. Draco casually glanced at her and almost wanted to smirk at the look on her face. Her brow was furrowed in concentration and her eyes were bright as she listened.

"Aye lass, he did. But that is where the sorrow of Turin truly began," Thengal told her somberly. Hermione frowned. "I'm afraid I don't understand. Thengal took a long draw on his pipe before he continued with the story.

"During their travels across the wilds, Beleg, Turin and the band of outlaws who followed him chanced upon a dwarf by the name of Mim. He had been captured and was freed by Turin's band of men. At first the dwarf proved to be difficult and saucy. But after a time Turin gained his trust, and he and his men stayed in the house of Mim for a time.

However, the dark lord Morgoth had not forgotten the son of Hurin and he sent forth Orcs to bring the young man to him so that he might enact revenge upon Hurin's house."

"Did the Orcs capture Turin?" Hermione asked, her eyes growing slightly wider.

"Indeed, and in the siege of the house, Mim was slain. The Orcs slaughtered Turin's men, left Beleg for dead and overpowered Turin, intending to spirit him away as quickly as possible to the fortress of Angband."

"What happened to Beleg?" Draco asked. Thengal was quiet for a long time and Hermione found herself with a growing sense of trepidation. Whatever happened in the story, she as sure that it was something bad.

"Having come to himself, Beleg rose from where he had fallen and having bound his wounds and pursued the Orcs and Turin intending to free his friend. And at last he was successful. The elf chanced upon the group spending the night within the forest before reaching Angband.

Turin was bound to a tree and Beleg stole forth quietly and slit the ropes binding his friend lest the other monsters should hear."

Thengal trailed off at this part and Hermione and Draco exchanged glances. Hermione wondered if this was where the tragedy of Turin climaxed.

"What happened Thengal?" she asked softly.

The farmer didn't answer for a long time and when he did, his voice had dropped almost to a whisper, so the blonde and the brunette had to strain to hear him.

"Then Turin was roused in a sudden wakefulness of fear and rage, and seeing a form bending over him in the gloom with a naked blade in hand, he leapt up with a great cry, believing that the Orcs were come again to torment him; and grappling with him in the darkness he seized his sword and slew Beleg Cuthalion thinking him a foe."

Hermione inhaled sharply through her teeth and Draco stiffened up slightly. Of all the outcomes of a rescue that the young witch had thought of, that was surely not one of them. She almost wanted to ask Thengal to stop but before she did, the farmer continued.

"But as he stood unbound, lightning flashed in the sky and in its light, he looked down on Beleg's face.

Then Turin stood stone still and silent, staring on the dreadful death, knowing what he had done and so terrible was his face that all who saw it cowered. He stood there for a time, unweeping and unmoving beside the body of his friend.

The Orcs roused themselves, but when they discovered that Turin had disappeared, they made no search for him, fearing the wind and thunder from the west, the stupid creatures returned to Angband.

But Turin buried his friend, and thus ended Beleg Strongbow, truest of friends, greatest in skill of all that harbored in the woods of Beleriand in the Elder Days, at the hand of him whom he most loved; and that grief was graven on the face of Turin and never faded."

As Thengal's voice died away on the wind, Hermione shivered. It had been a wretched end for the elf Beleg, but even more so for the man called Turin, for to bear the knowledge that you had slain your truest friend was a fate far more terrible then death.

_Well that was certainly cheery, _the brunette thought. She cast a glance at Draco who was sitting stiffly in his seat eyes forward. He seemed to be as affected by the story as she.

No more was said for a while, and the witch wizard and farmer sat in silence as they contemplated the fate of Turin for the grief that he had suffered was great.

Ω

The Elven fortress of Dol Guldur had once been a beautiful place. In the days of the high elves, it had been a citadel full of light and laughter. Its caverns sparkled with white stones and the halls were full of mirth and the pouring of wine.

It existed at the far edge of Mirkwood, and there a shadow had fallen over the land. The fortress had fallen into ruin since the elves abandoned it and began to diminish. But to look at it now, no one would recognize it for the same place it had once been.

The towers marked with moss and dark mold were crumbling. Rusted iron spikes poked out from every doorway and threatened anyone who walked too close to be skewered. Dust listed in every corner of the place.

On the eastern side of the fortress there was a stone platform with no ceiling. No stone arches leaned over it. It was in the shape of a semi-circle and carved completely out of rock. If one were standing in the center of it, they could look to the eastern sky and see the red of Mordor off in the distance. The mountains that blocked a decent view of the place didn't betray the fact that there was obviously a lot of activity happening behind them. Even from this distance one could see the sprays of lava from Mount Doom flying into the air and coating the horizon of Mordor even more crimson then it already was.

The stone platform looked out onto a ravine a few kilometers deep with rocks protruding at the very bottom a thin river running between them. But the river like the rest of the fortress was the same dark color as the stones that made up the fortress. Black.

There were no signs of life to be seen and aside from the wind whistling through the cracks in the stones creating an odd falsetto sound, there was nothing but silence.

Until the sound of falling stones became audible.

The stones weren't falling from the towers however. There was a corridor off to the western side of the fortress that led into Mirkwood Forest, the stones were falling off the bridge and into the chasm below with constant steady repetition.

Soon enough though another sound joined it. The sound of footsteps.

If anyone had been around to hear the sound of heavy metal footfalls connecting with carven stone, they might have done one of two things. Either cringe and hurry away or curiously follow the sound of the noise as it would have been one they hadn't heard before.

A lone figure covered all in black was striding purposefully across the bridge through the corridors and into the center of the stone platform.

Upon a closer inspection one would have been able to tell that there was a small altar type structure situated dead center in the long stone platform. It was carved completely from rock but at the very base of it, there were ancient Elvish runes embedded in the stone.

But the cloaked figure took no notice of these markings. Its eye was set on another prize that was resting just atop the altar.

There was a circular trench cut into the stone and this trench was filled with dark water. It was completely still, not even the flecks of light that would be cast through the clouds every few minutes could penetrate its surface.

This was black magic.

As the figure approached the stone pulpit, it rested its armored hands on either side of the pool of water and started into it for a few minutes before raising its voice and chanting in a rough garbled language.

The language of Mordor. Black Speech.

Finally, it seemed to complete its monologue and stepped back. There was a few minutes of silence and then the water began to writhe and roil like the sea during a hurricane, it foamed and boiled angrily.

Then, when its rage seemed to reach its peak, the water exploded. A darkness formed from it which flew out of the pulpit and raced seamlessly along the outer edges of Dol Guldur until it had completely engulfed the fortress in shadow.

The creature in the dark cloak looked around calmly. There were many times when it was cautious about approaching its master, what with the coming war. There were many preparations to be made and any interruptions were met with extreme displeasure. But this time, it thought its master would be pleased with what it had been told. Because this information could place the last nail in the coffin that was Middle Earth.

The same language that the hooded figure had used earlier seemed to come from the very stones around it, and shook the ground beneath the creature's feet.

To the person watching the spectacle, a shiver would have been brought to them if they had heard the harsh tones and dark words of the darkness.

But if they had been able to understand it?

They would have run from the fortress screaming and would not have stopped until they were many miles away.

There is something about hearing another language, but a language that is so dark when it is heard audibly, that bring chills to the strongest person.

_ "__What news?"_ the blackness asked harshly and the small creature that had sent the message had to refrain from cringing. He hoped what its source had said was accurate.

"My lord, he has found something. Something that may turn the tide of the war," it hissed in its strange voice.

_"__Unless it is the Ring of Power, I have no interest in your vague notions and foolish theories. Your task is to find the Ring."_

"My lord, I think you will want to be aware of this information," the creature said again, this time more carefully. The last thing it wanted was to be deprived of its power.

Before the darkness could speak again, the creature concentrated all of its memories of what it had been told toward its master. It figured if its lord were to see the information for himself he would be more receptive to it.

A few moments passed. The darkness continued to roil, but the movements became less as it comprehended the meaning of its memories.

_"__A great power you say? Two that might be a formidable opponent should they side with the enemy?"_

"Yes my lord. We are creatures of power, it is highly unlikely that we would not notice them prowling about the land," the creature in the black cloak said. It was pleased because its master was listening.

When word had been sent to it the previous day about a power source more powerful than any seen before in the land for hundreds of years, it was naturally curious. But it was only after it had seen the memories, that it became convinced that they needed this asset to achieve total domination.

_"__Suppose the elves should chance upon this power source first? They could pose a threat to our plans. I am not willing to sacrifice the conquest of Middle Earth based on a fantastical whim. The Ring of Power is an already affirmed guarantee. It is the last piece in the puzzle. What need have I of more power once it is in my hands?"_

This is where the cloaked figure paused. It knew it would have to be at its most convincing here if it were to achieve its ends.

"Suppose we were to bring these power sources to you here? They would be safely locked away until we have need of them. That way we would ensure that no future threats are spawned and thus keeping the asset for ourselves should we have need of them," it said.

There was a long silence. Then the darkness began to disappear and fade back into the pool of water from whence it came. The cloaked figure barely made out its last words before it disappeared completely.

_"__Find them."_

Ω

**Dun dun dun! Bit of a cliff-hanger there! The continuation of the story that Thengal told to Draco and Hermione is also in the story: "The Children of Hurin." Sadly I do not own any of it, no matter how much I might wish I did. Anyway what do you guys think? Drop me a review and let me know. Happy reading everyone!**


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: Bree

The sun had slowly begun to sink behind the hills as the witch, the wizard and the farmer left the plains of Rohan behind. They had slowly begun to smooth into cool green farmlands and vast emerald forests, but in the dying light of the sun, the jade colors had deepened into what Thengal had told them was the Shire regions.

As Hermione looked around, she had no idea which of the two areas she liked better. There was ethereal unending beauty in both. Whereas Rohan possessed rolling lands and waving tall grasses like that of a restless sea, the Shire regions were so green it almost hurt to look at them.

Everywhere the witch turned, there were carefully cultivated lands, corn rows and strawberry plants all in lines. Smoke was rising from the fires as the land owners slowly trudged in for the night.

It was early spring and even though it was still cool, Hermione was glad that the sun was staying out longer. Its dying rays were still warm upon her face as she turned so she could look in every direction.

Somewhere, there was the sound of a fiddle. It was upbeat lively music that made the brunette want to dismount from the cart and dance. As it was, she began tapping her fingers in time to the beat on the side of the cart and Thengal picked up the tune and began whistling right along.

Suddenly the houses came into view and the witch forgot all about the music. She wasn't sure what emotion had come over her, but it was pretty close to delight.

Emerging out of the small soft green hills on her right and on her left were small houses. These little dwellings however, were dug right into the hills. They had small round doors of varying colors and the grass hung down over the top of the doors as a sort of overhang. Pink and white blossoms could be seen growing in the soil over top and Hermione could feel her lips pulling up into a smile.

It was one of the most adorable things she had ever seen. Draco was also looking at the houses with his familiar smirk. She couldn't tell if he was interested or simply just bored and looking for something to occupy his gaze.

"Thengal, is it only farmers who live here?" she asked hesitantly. The farmer took the pipe from between his teeth and chuckled.

"No lass, if we were to go farther into the Shire, you would meet the Hobbits. They live in houses similar to this, but you rarely see them outside of the Shire. They like their comfort, and their food and their hearths. They're a little suspicious of newcomers so they keep to themselves."

"I'm sorry, hobbits?" Draco asked, sounding completely bewildered. He shot a glance at Hermione but she shrugged, just as confused as he was. Fortunately Thengal didn't notice their confusion.

"Aye, they're also called Halflings, because they're half the size of you and I. Not like the dwarves mind you who are a sturdy folk. No you can tell them just by looking at their feet."

Hermione glanced at her blonde companion now feeling even more lost. But before she could say anything, Thengal continued.

"The thing about their feet is that they're twice the size of a man's and quite hairy. They never wear shoes because their feet are tough and can handle the worst sort of wear. In fact, you might just see some tonight at the inn."

With that he said no more, and Hermione taking this moment to herself, curled herself against the side of the cart, pressed a fist to her mouth and let her laughter out in all but sound for the next few minutes.

Her shoulders shook and tears rolled down her cheeks. Draco looked at her for a moment as if she had lost all sense, but then he too started to smile. Hermione couldn't help it. They had been tossed into another world not even thirty hours before, they had driven across the countryside in a horse drawn cart, been attacked by a Dementor like creature, and had learned and told stories about elves dwarves and hobbits. Their situation was so obtuse that Hermione was still having a hard time believing it was real.

After a moment, spent, she managed to haul herself back onto her knees. Draco took a breath and she saw that he was getting over his laughter as there was still a silly smile plastered on his face.

_He should smile more often, he looks more like a teenager when he does_.

Hermione had to resist the urge to blink in surprise. Again, where the hell had that come from? She was having random unplanned thoughts all the time lately, and the worst part was, she kind of liked them!

The words random and unplanned didn't compute with Hermione Granger. But she didn't want to take the time to process them now, there was far too much to look at.

As the cart rolled away past the little houses built into the hills, Hermione could see the soft strains of smoke rising into the evening sky from the chimneys. The air was fresh and sweet and she closed her eyes, took a deep breath and drank it in. There was something about this whole place…..about all of Middle Earth in fact that just felt…..right.

She opened her eyes again and noticed that the road had slanted downward. Rising to meet them on either side of them were stone walls that looked like they had been built by hand. They didn't carry the same menacing feel that the other wall they had passed through earlier had, but Hermione could tell that very soon they would be coming to journey's end.

As the road continued on its downward slant, she found that rock structures slowly gave way to wooden walls that rose higher and higher until they reached well above her head.

She turned her head to the right and saw that on that side of them there was dense forest. A mass of thick and tangled vines formed a solid wall of green that was only held back by the presence of the road. If it were not there, Hermione feared that the greenwood would explode and engulf any that came near.

She turned to her left and saw that Thengal had pulled the cart to a stop outside of a pair of massive solid oak doors. They stood at least twenty feet high and looked more than a little imposing.

Thengal tugged the reins one last time before turning to smile at his two charges in the back.

"Well here we are young masters, the township of Bree, just give me a moment and then we'll be inside."

Before either the blonde or the brunette could respond, the farmer had dismounted from the cart and strode over to the doors. Raising his fist to the wood, he knocked strongly, then stepped back and waited for a few seconds.

Before long, there was a sound like chains being unlatched and bolts being rolled back and then a small window in the door opened and a man with wild white hair, wide eyes and a strange crooked nose appeared.

"What happens now Malfoy?" Hermione asked nervously. She was trying to keep the anxiety out of her tone but it didn't seem to work because the Slytherin turned to her and lifted one golden brow in amusement.

"Scared Granger?" he asked, in his familiar lazy drawl. Hermione folded her arms across her chest and glared at him.

"Pardon me for being a little apprehensive after we have been dumped in another part of magical cyberspace with no clue what the hell we are doing," she hissed back. Draco's smirk widened a bit.

"Would you relax? Look we're going to get in there, get to the inn, spend the night and maybe get us a few horses the next day so we can find a way of making another portkey."

He sounded so calm that the brunette wanted to scream. As far as plans go that wasn't much of one. And she was about to say so when he reached out and tilted her chin up so he could look her in the eyes.

The gesture made the words she was about to say wither and die because of how unexpected it was. He had never done something like that before, so she knew what he was about to say was dreadfully serious.

"Granger listen to me carefully. Right now, your Gryffindor bravery needs to be put away. There is a time for that and it isn't now. Rationalize that right now, we are in a different world, and we need to use our wits and cunning to survive. You're going to have to turn into a Slytherin for the time being."

"And how are you so sure that I can shed my lion skin for a coat of scales and dull my roar to a hiss oh wise one?" Hermione asked sarcastically.

Draco reached out and raised her chin again so he could look her in the eyes. There was a moment of silence as his grey irises stared into her golden brown ones.

"Because I know you. You can adapt to any change as easily as I can."

With that, his hand fell away as he dropped his arm and didn't look at her again. Hermione blinked and had to suppress the urge to raise her hand to her face where he had touched her. The spot was tingling slightly, and she wasn't sure she liked the way it made her feel.

But at that moment, Thengal had turned from the door and walked back to the cart. A second later, there was a terrible creaking noise and the tall oak doors swung open to reveal one of the quaintest townships the young witch had ever seen.

The houses were small but well built, smoke was pouring from the chimney of each and people were walking and talking in groups as they came slowly down the road.

Thengal clucked his tongue at the horses and slowly began to pull the three of them into the streets of Bree. Everywhere around, people were closing up the windows and putting the shutters up for the night.

The houses were simple wooden structures, some easily three stories, and on every street corner was a man with a sword strapped to his waist. Every few moments, a patrol of three or four soldiers would stroll down the street gaining strange looks from the residents still on the streets. It was quiet, a little too quiet.

Hermione licked her lips. The silence was a little unnerving, but she decided to look straight ahead and not think about it.

After a few minutes, she glanced to the side and caught Draco looking around calmly. His expression didn't change. She happened to notice some of the younger girls on the street glancing at him from the corner of their eyes, the sides of their mouths pulled up in telltale smiles.

Hermione's lips curled and she felt an odd feeling coiling in the pit of her stomach. She frowned, unsure of what it was, but not really liking it regardless.

Draco must have felt her looking at him because he turned to her and raised an eyebrow. "What?" he asked. Hermione shook her head and looked away. "Nothing," she replied.

Thengal continued to guide the cart down the street ignoring the odd looks he was receiving at having two teenagers in the back of his cart.

It was just then that they turned a corner and a building came into view. It was erected similarly to the other in that it was three stories tall, but a sign was hanging just above the door that swung whenever the wind blew. It had a carving of a horse etched into the wood and just below the picture in elegant calligraphy were the words: _The Prancing Pony._

Hermione heard Draco breathe a sigh of relief and she glanced at him curiously.

"Finally, we're here," he murmured, more so to himself then to her. Hermione tightened the clasp at her throat as Thengal dismounted and turned to them.

"I will tend to the horses young master, you and the mistress should get on inside and find somewhere to sit, I will join you shortly."

Draco nodded and hurriedly dismounted from the cart before turning and reaching out his hand to Hermione. She looked from it to his face carefully before slowly reaching out and taking it.

As Hermione lifted her skirts and stepped from the cart, she was keenly aware of the curious glances being thrown her way. She didn't blame them for staring, if she had seen a merchant's cart driven down the street with two obviously well-dressed people in the back who certainly looked out of place, she might have been curious also.

The minute, she stepped down however, Draco didn't let go of her hand. Instead he laced his fingers through hers and tightened his grip. She threw a questioning glance at him but he ignored it. She opened her mouth to ask why the continued physical contact, but then remembered the hastily thrown up charade that she and Draco were portraying and clamped her lips shut.

If the truth be known, it felt rather nice. His hand was slightly bigger then hers, but not overpowering so she felt safe without feeling stifled.

As they walked into the inn, Hermione immediately noticed the scent of pipe smoke and the loud raucous laughter. Yet it wasn't what one might expect.

It looked…well I suppose one might describe it as a sort of rest stop. The blonde and brunette were standing in a large room, filled with large wooden tables. On the left side of the room appeared to be the kitchen and bar where people could go and order their drinks and food. Draco and Hermione passed it as they were coming in and the loudest laughter could be heard from there.

There was a roaring fireplace in the center of the room against the wall and it gave off a cheery red light, illuminating the whole space.

Young women in long dresses and aprons rushed to and fro with mugs of ale at least that was what Hermione thought of it as, and plates of food.

At the far end of the room was a winding staircase that led up to the second floor and presumably the rooms that were there.

Hermione looked around the room, spotted an empty table in the corner by the windows but relatively close enough to the fire, and catching Draco's eye, gestured to it.

He nodded and the two immediately hurried in that direction. They had to wade around large men and bent wiry women all wearing the same manner of dress talking in distinct accents in old English making it more and more real to the brunette witch that they were way out of their depth.

Finally, though the two made it to the table and sank gratefully down onto the hard wooden benches, thankful to be out of the way.

"Well then, we have arrived," Hermione said out loud. She had meant to say it to herself, but the words rolled off her tongue anyway. Draco raised an eyebrow at her.

"Yes Granger, we have. If we didn't we wouldn't be sitting on these benches in the middle of this busy tavern." Hermione rolled her eyes at him and leaned forward in her seat, resting her elbows on the table and looking her fake husband in the eyes.

"Now what?" She asked. Draco glanced around the room before quickly turning back to meet her gaze. "Now we wait for Thengal to come in, we get something to eat, spend the night here and hopefully figure out a way to get home tomorrow."

"It's really all that simple to you isn't it?"

"Yes it is. I told you Granger, when you think like a Slytherin, everything becomes less complicated. Relax, we have our magic, and that's really all we need for right now."

Hermione suppressed the urge to roll her eyes and glanced up at the door just in time to see Thengal walk in. He had a few items in his arms, articles of clothing, a few pouches and what not. She waved and he smiled at her. Turning, he stopped by the counter and had a few words with the barman who she saw nodded and smiled in their direction before the two parted ways and the farmer lumbered over to them.

Draco stood up and the famer smiled at him gratefully before placing the items on the table. As Hermione looked closer at the paraphernalia she could see several garments, and the pouches on the table rattled as if they were full of money.

"Thengal, what is all this?" She asked carefully. The old merchant smiled as he looked up from her.

"Provisions lass. You didn't think I could let you and your husband traipse across the country without the necessary supplies did you?"

Before Hermione could reply, Thengal had pulled a thick cloak off the table and passed it to a surprised Draco. He then selected two pouches that looked somewhat heavy and were tied together with a thick leather cord and dropped them in front of Hermione.

Still confused, the witch hesitantly undid the laces on one of them and tipped the contents of it out into her hand. Her surprise turned to complete astonishment when she saw a handful of gold coins spill out onto her hand and across the wooden table.

She caught Draco's eye and looked up into the face of the farmer in front of them. "Thengal we can't take this, this must have been money you earned in the last villages you passed through. This is hard earned coin." She ignored the look that Draco was sending her and focused completely on the farmer's face.

He was looking at her kindly. "Lass, my needs are simple, what need have I of great wealth? Your husband and you are young in the world and have much to experience, this will help you make your way, perhaps find a way to return home. What kind of man would I be if I turned away those who needed my help?"

Draco had to bite his lip to keep his mouth from falling open. This was certainly new. Hermione's eyes were glistening with what looked like unshed grateful tears. He hoped to Merlin that she didn't start getting emotional.

Without a word, she got up and threw her arms around the farmer's neck. Draco watched as Thengal stiffened for a half second before patting Hermione on the back awkwardly, a small smile gracing his wrinkled face.

After a moment, the witch pulled back and looked him in the eyes. "Thank you," she whispered. Thengal's fond smile deepened and he gave her hand a gentle squeeze.

"It's my pleasure lass. Now supposing I go and get us something to eat? I fear I'm going to pass out from hunger."

Hermione returned his smile and nodded, before the farmer turned and walked back to the counter to converse with the barman.

Draco was still staring at the cloak the farmer handed him. It was a rich garment that was ironically dark green and fastened at the neck with a silver colored clasp. There was a bag also sitting in the middle of the table, Hermione felt around in it, and realized that there was a few sets of clothes in there. Where Thengal had managed to get his hands on female clothing she would never know, but was eternally grateful none the less.

The Slytherin across from her, leaned back against the bench, still somewhat dazed from the events that had taken place. Back home he would have been too proud to take charity. But they literally had nothing. Thengal's kindness was actually rather touching.

He glanced up at Hermione who was rubbing her eyes. They were still bright, but they had taken on a slight golden hue.

"Are you alright?" He asked carefully. She glanced up at him, giving the blonde a watery smile. Her next words shocked him.

"Maybe…..maybe this world isn't so bad after all."

Ω

Thengal soon returned with three plates of steaming food along with three mugs of what they later learned was ale, waving off their profuse exclamations of gratitude

Draco ate like a starving prisoner. Pureblood table etiquette be damned! He hadn't eaten in nearly two days and it wasn't until the food was in his stomach that he realized just how hungry he had been.

The meal consisted of what looked to be some kind of hard fowl, a few crispy slices of bacon, a hunk of bread and cheese, and a few slices of tomato. It might as well have been the welcoming feast at Hogwarts for all he cared. The blonde decided while he was chewing that he would never complain about what was put in front of him again, because he now knew the prospect of what going hungry and having to trust others to provide was like.

Thengal had gone above and beyond what anyone would have done, and Draco knew that he would be sad when the time came to say good bye to the farmer.

Hermione ate a little slower than he did, but not by much. She seemed to have focused her attention out the window at something, but Draco was too focused on his meal to ask her what it was. He had never tasted food so good, although he was sure that it had something to do with the long absence it had taken from his stomach.

Thengal had leaned back in his chair and was sipping his mug of ale all while surreptitiously staring into the large blazing fire near them.

People were still running to and fro across the room with plates and calling out loud and raucous greetings to each other, but the three patrons sitting at the far left table closest to the fire paid no attention to it.

The area was warm and comfortable and while the night sky outside had grown dark, Hermione didn't fear it.

She barely noticed that Draco and Thengal had finished their respective meals and were sitting talking quietly. Hermione picked up the tankard of warm ale sitting in front of her and took a tentative sip. Warmth bloomed in her stomach as the beverage slid down her throat and she almost felt as if every muscle was uncoiling and stretching after having been clenched from the cold.

The brunette witch leaned back in her chair and gave a contented sigh. Somehow, she wasn't worried at all, things would work themselves out. Draco was right, there was no need to worry.

She turned and stared into the fire, still clutching the mug of ale, faintly aware of the fact that her eyes were beginning to droop.

Thengal noticed though. He uttered a chuckle from deep in his throat, and took a sip from his cup.

"Methinks you could do with a rest lass. After the fright on the road today, you look like you need it. Your and Master Draconis' room is the first one on the right at the top of the stairs. I am in the room next to yours if there is any problems."

"We're in the same room?" Hermione asked, a slight frown coloring her features. Thengal lowered his mug of ale and looked at her curiously.

"Of course, you are married are you not? It is usually customary for married couples to stay in the same room."

The brunette locked eyes with Draco who had raised his eyebrows at her in a, _what are you doing? _look. Hermione shook her head at her temporary lapse in memory and nodded at the farmer.

"Of course," she replied as she pushed her now empty mug to one side. "Thank you Thengal."

"Ah and there is one final thing that I must give you before you leave."

Hermione watched curiously as he began to dig through the paraphernalia still on the table and her eyes widened when he pulled out of the mess, a small dagger.

Its entire length went from the end of her fingers to the middle of her forearm. It was in a dark red leather sheath that was buckled in with a strap of the same material and fastened with a gold colored button.

Hermione unfastened the strap and unsheathed the dagger. Its hilt was a dark red as well, but the blade shone bright, as silver as starlight and wicked sharp. Hermione examined the blade as if in a trance before turning her confused look on the farmer.

He must have seen the question in her eyes because he hurried to explain.

"Lass I fervently pray that you will never have need of it, but it is a dangerous time in this country with strange folk about. Your husband, while I have no doubt will protect you with his last breath, is only one man, it would ease my spirit if when I left you, I knew that you had something to defend yourself with."

The witch glanced at Draco who, while looking a little surprised by Thengal's gift, nodded after a moment's hesitation.

The brunette turned a gentle look back on the farmer. "Thank you," she murmured to him.

Hermione smiled at him, and he returned it, brown eyes twinkling in the firelight. Hermione decided it wouldn't do to protest, she realized that she was exhausted and would be able to think more clearly in the morning.

"Very well then," she said getting to her feet calmly. "Goodnight Thengal, good night Draco." The blonde sitting at the end of the table across from her bid her the same, before reaching under the table and handing her wand to her. She nodded in thanks.

Before she could take one step toward the stairs however, the voice of the farmer stopped her.

"Come now, you aren't going to say good night to your husband properly?"

Hermione looked at the wizened traveler in confusion before she realized what he was inferring and felt her cheeks heat. She glanced down at Draco who was looking up at her, except a tiny smile was tugging his lips upward.

_He's enjoying this, _she realized with shock and indignation. The brunette spared the farmer a glance but quickly returned to looking at her fake husband.

Would it kill her to do this?

No.

Did she want to? Not particularly….at least she thought she didn't. But then the memory of Draco saving her from the dark rider jumped to the forefront of her consciousness and she gave a deep inward sigh.

_Oh what the hell._

These were her last thoughts before she leaned down and pressed her mouth to Draco's.

Whatever Hermione had expected, it sure as hell wasn't this.

As soon as their lips connected, she felt a spark send a shudder through her, down her spine to ends of her toes and fingers. It felt like electricity was pouring into her.

It was just supposed to be a simple staged kiss goodnight with her fake husband to keep their story going so as not to raise suspicion. But that wasn't how it felt.

Hermione literally felt as if the warm fire from the hearth was slowly burning her from the inside out. It literally felt as if all of her nerves and cells had been sent ablaze and the kiss was just the spark that ignited the flame. It was the most incredible sensation she had ever felt.

Draco's lips were soft and warm but still had enough punch in them to make her weak at the knees. Ron's kiss in the Chamber of Secrets had _nothing_ on this.

She felt Draco's hand reach up and press against her cheek, fingers twining in her hair. Hermione could have gone on like that for another hour, but she then realized where they were and she pulled back, cheeks flushing.

If she had looked down, she would have seen Thengal's amused smile and Draco's dumbfounded expression.

"Well goodnight," she said in a rush and hurried as fast as was ladylike to the stairs where she mounted them two at a time until she had reached the top and the first door on the right side where Thengal had indicated they would be staying.

The witch pushed open the door and leaned her back against it closing her eyes as she tried to process what had just happened.

_What the bloody hell was that, Hermione?!_ Her brain was screaming. _You just kissed bloody Draco Malfoy, and what's worse…..you liked it! _

Taking a deep breath, she opened her eyes again and took in the room. It was bare except for a small fireplace and a modest bed situated between the two windows in front of her.

There was a hook for clothes and cloaks on the right side of the fire, which was already burning brightly. Hermione took off the heavy Gryffindor cloak she was wearing and hung it on the hook before crossing the room slowly to look out the window.

They were on the third floor of the _Prancing Pony _and as it was, she was eye level with the wooden wall blocking out the outer world, but she could still see the faint silhouette of the mountains in the distance. The moon and the stars had come out, as beautiful as they had been the previous night and just as bright.

There was something so ethereally beautiful about the stars of Middle Earth. Perhaps because there didn't seem to be any pollution. There were no factories and the only types of industry that she had seen on her way in were farms.

It was tranquil….beautiful. Hermione felt her heart clench when she thought of home and compared Middle Earth to it. There was something about this place that Britain would never have.

Quiet.

There was a peace to this place that was without the hurried hustle and bustle of downtown London. There didn't seem to be any prejudice here as well. The whole country, at least from what she had seen, was quiet and dreamlike.

And she loved it.

The thought surprised Hermione, but the more she thought about it, she realized the truth of it. She had been in the place barely forty eight hours and already it was growing on her. And the thought of leaving, made her somewhat sad.

She thought of all the stories that Thengal had told them, and remembered Draco telling her how the farmer had talked of the elves. From the way he spoke, they sounded like strange and wondrous creatures that she longed to look upon.

Suddenly, she had an idea.

Thengal had described the elves as having magical abilities, so would it not be safe to assume that they would be the ones to possess knowledge of helping them?

The more she thought about it, the more right it seemed. Draco and she should seek out the elves, because if anyone would know how they might get back to their world, it would be them.

Hermione smiled, and at least this way they could accomplish more of their desires. They could see more of Middle Earth and its people, and hopefully figure out a way to find the elves. Perhaps Thengal knew where they would be.

The more she dwelt on this notion the more she was convinced of its rightness. They could take time to explore Middle Earth, get their questions answered and eventually head home. But she would think about the home part of it later.

Draco was right, she had needed an adventure after the stress and pressure of the war. There was no one dogging her footsteps now, no fate of the wizarding world resting on her shoulders. She was free.

With this last thought in mind, the witch set about getting ready for bed.

Ω

"Ah, Master Draconis, you are a lucky man," Thengal said as the two of them watched Hermione hurry up the stairs and out of sight.

"What do you mean?" the blonde asked, head still buzzing faintly from that kiss. She had taken him by surprise, there was no way he had thought she would do it. But that was his greatest problem with Hermione, he always underestimated her.

The farmer pulled his pipe from his cloak, opened a pouch stored within the folds, sprinkled a few dried leaves into its belly and cleaned the stem with the edge of his tunic before inserting it between his teeth.

He gave Draco a knowing smirk. A smirk that reminded Draco so much of Blaise that he almost winced, remembering his best friend.

"To be bonded with one such as that…there is many a man that would be willing to take your place," Thengal said seriously after his smirk faded.

Draco stared into the fire, unsure if he should continue on with this subject, unsure if he liked where it was heading.

"I'm not sure I know what you mean Thengal," he said quietly. The farmer huffed out his breath.

"Oh come now, surely you must realize that a woman like that is beyond the price of diamonds. I have told you that she is fairer then any I have seen in this land. She is quite obviously very intelligent, and possesses bravery, for you and she did not lose your wits when that blasted creature ran us off the road earlier today.

A woman like that does not come along very often Master Draconis, you must guard her with your life, lest someone try and take her from you."

Draco cast a sharp glance at the farmer. His words sounded ominous and last thing that blonde wanted to hear was sinister news.

"I will," he whispered, more to himself then to Thengal but the farmer must have heard him for he nodded in approval.

The two lapsed into silence and Draco's mind wandered back to the physical encounter from a few moments earlier.

Merlin, he had wanted to do that since he was thirteen and Hermione had punched him on the hillside above Hagrid's cabin.

He had been kind of a git that day, and Hermione was a lioness when her temper was aroused. It was only then that he paused to consider the irony of the Sorting Hat from their first year. How that old ugly thing managed to read them so well he would never know, but Hermione was every bit the strong brave lioness just as he was every bit the cunning resourceful snake.

Damn that Sorting Hat!

If Blaise were here, he would be giving Draco his trademark smirk, after congratulating him for finally getting up the nerve the kiss the Gryffindor Princess.

But titles didn't matter anymore, at least not while they were here. Purebloods, and half-bloods and Muggleborns didn't seem to exist here. They were all just people. Draco frowned as he considered that perspective, he had truly never thought about it like that before.

He was so lost in thought that he didn't realize that the farmer was still speaking to him. Draco blinked. "I'm sorry Thengal, what were you saying?" the blonde asked.

The farmer chuckled low in his throat. "I was merely enquiring as to the circumstances of you meeting Miss Hermione. Given the display from a few moments ago, I very much doubt that it was an arranged marriage."

Draco had years of experience in keeping his emotions from his face, there was only one thing that might cause it to crack and that was thoughts of Hermione. It took all of his willpower to not allow the heat to rise in his cheeks.

Thengal must have seen the discomfort on his face, because he uttered a booming laugh and clapped Draco on the shoulder.

"It's alright young master, there is no need to be uncomfortable. I highly doubt the tale of your first meeting is any more embarrassing then the tale of me meeting my wife." He capped the statement with a deep chuckle.

Draco smiled at the farmer tentatively, all the while wondering how much he should disclose and how much he would have to temper to make the story believable.

Then he realized no matter how much he told, it really wouldn't matter, as after tomorrow, he would most likely never see Thengal again.

"Hermione and I have a…..turbulent history," He began. He chose his words carefully, not because he was afraid of what Thengal would think, but because he wasn't exactly sure of what he was going to say himself. Dredging up the past was a dangerous thing, and some memories were just too painful.

"We grew up together you see. My family had more money than hers, they were poor and so I thought myself better than her." Of course that wasn't the only reason, but it was the only one that would make sense to the farmer.

"I tormented and bullied her. I called her awful names because I was jealous. You see, she was smarter than me, and bested me in everything that we did. But secretly, although I would never admit it to anyone but myself, I admired her, I wanted to be like her and it bothered me that I couldn't. I was a spoiled child. I wanted for nothing and my parents never disciplined me. It's a wonder that I am seeing all the errors of my ways now.

But when we got older, I began to see her in a different light. She wasn't that annoying competitive know it all that I remembered. She became a beautiful woman, intelligent and very brave, but also resourceful. She knew what she wanted and she went after it.

Even now, I still feel guilty for all the things I've done to her. I don't know how we got to this point, but somehow we did. And I wouldn't change it."

He trailed off, staring into the fire, having said all that he wanted to say. He was shocked because every word had been the truth. He felt immense guilt over the things he had said and done to Hermione. The long sleeves of her dress covered up the scar on her arm, but he could still see it. It would most likely be there forever. And he had watched while his aunt carved her up.

And he had done nothing.

Oh sure, there were reasons why he hadn't been able to do anything, but they all sounded ridiculous when he thought of them now. He knew there was a reason he hadn't been sorted into Gryffindor, but bravery didn't have to be his first quality in order to do something, it just had to be a trait he possessed.

But even after the battle of Hogwarts, he was still running. Granted, Hermione was too, much as she wanted to deny it. But the difference was, she deserved it. If anything, he should've stayed and faced up to the consequences of his actions, or rather his failure to act.

"The truth was," he continued, a little surprised that Thengal was still listening after so long a silence. "That I was too much of a coward and too prideful to tell her how I felt until it was almost too late and I lost her."

He felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder and looked up to see the farmer with surprising empathy in his eyes.

"The fact that she doesn't hold any of this against you and that the two of you became man and wife is both a testament to her and you. Do not dig yourself into a hole of guilt lad. If I allowed myself to remember everything I said and did to my wife, I would not be sitting here. Why do you think it took you your entire childhood to admit this to her?"

"Pride," Draco said simply staring into his half-drunk mug of ale. Thengal gave a heavy sigh, but it wasn't the kind of exhalation one would hear if they were responding to an exasperating answer. This was tired and sad and full of wisdom and memory.

Draco looked up at the farmer and found his old cloudy brown eyes glistening with sorrowful rememberance.

"Is everything alright?" the blonde asked curiously. Thengal absently rubbed a hand across his face.

"I think lad, that it is time that you heard the rest of Turin's story. For it is somewhat alike to what you have told me. There may perhaps be something that you may take away from it."

Draco frowned curiously. He knew that the story of Turin wasn't over from the way that Thengal spoke of it.

"Very well, then tell me," he said boldly. He knew from the way that Thengal spoke of Turin that there was much more sorrow to come, but aside from inwardly bracing himself, Draco leaned back against the wooden bench and focused his eyes on the farmer who was now staring intently into the fire as if in a trance.

"Before his untimely death at the hands of his truest friend, Beleg encountered another elf in the woods by the name of Gwindor who had long suffered in Angband, and who had just now escaped and was returning to his home.

In the morning, Gwindor and Turin buried Beleg, and Gwindor drew the son of the Hurin with him to his home of Nargothrond. However, it is only when they reach a place called Eithel Ivrin that Turin was finally able to weep. The death of Beleg had affected him so greatly that he remained in a fixed witless state for months unable to speak or grieve for his friend.

Upon reaching Nargothrond, Turin found favor with King Orodreth, its monarch and much to the chagrin of Gwindor who was in fact betrothed to her before his long imprisonment, achieved the love of the King's daughter Finduilas."

Draco winced. While he had had a reputation among the girls of Hogwarts, he had never stolen another man's girl from him. That was something he could say that his conscience was clear on.

"However, Turin did not reciprocate her feelings," here Draco breathed a sigh of relief. "And because of his prowess in battle, Turin led the elves on many successful campaigns. In fact he became so well known that he became Orodreth's chief counsellor and was placed at the head of all of Nargothrond's vast armies.

But the pride of Turin was still great, and it was here that it began to cause his downfall."

Draco frowned. "I'm afraid I don't understand."

The farmer continued to stare into the fire as if it held all the secrets of the stars and the universe. When he spoke again, his voice was so low that Draco had to strain in order to hear what hear said.

"Lad, pride is the greatest downfall of men. One might say that Turin brought his fate upon himself for being so stubborn and convinced of his own rightness. He was a man driven by fate and the moment he refused to return to the elves, the curse of Morgoth rang true."

Draco raised an eyebrow, he had almost forgotten the fate the incarnate deity had placed upon the son of Hurin.

"Because of his successes and the titles gifted him, Turin grew steadily more arrogant, sure of his own righteousness. Even when campaigns were dangerous he refused to listen to reason and pursued each endeavor with a reckless mania. Many have their theories as to why Turin acted as he did, my own opinion being that the blood on his hands was still affecting him. But no matter.

Unfortunately his pride rang true, because of his reckless actions, Nargothrond moved ever closer to the cliff of destruction.

It was at this time that Nargothrond had attracted the attention of Morgoth. You see lad, he was angry that he had failed to capture Turin, but the young man's youth and naiveté brought him to the dark lord despite the workings of men."

Thengal paused here. His voice had dropped to a growling whisper and Draco had almost ceased to hear the conversations going on around them. They hardly seemed important.

When Thengal told stories, he spoke as if he was repeating secrets far too great to be spoken aloud, secrets that were more precious than gold and that the person receiving them should only be someone worthy.

It was in this odd way that Draco felt honored to be hearing the story of Turin, even though the tale was fraught with sorrow. The blonde gazed into the fire and the glowing, gleaming embers that jumped and danced in the flames, tossing gems of sparks into the air and Thengal resumed the telling.

"Five years following Turin's foolish battle strategies, Morgoth unleashed his greatest weapon and sent the fire dragon spirit Glaurung and an army of Orcs against Turin and the elves. The two armies clashed on the field of Tumhalad and both Gwindor and Orodreth were slain."

Draco grimaced, a muscle jerking in his cheek. He was still having trouble dealing with his cowardice in the war, but to have caused the deaths of hundreds?

"And Gwindor was betrothed to Finduilas?" he asked. Thengal nodded. "Aye lad, he was." Draco frowned.

"But Finduilas was in love with Turin who in turn didn't love her….so what happened to her?" Turin was beginning to sound more and more like the prat he had been at school, but he didn't say this.

"Finduilas was kidnapped by the Orcs," Thengal replied softly. Draco's frown deepened. "Where was Turin when all of this was happening?" he asked. It seemed unlikely that the son of Hurin would just sit idly by while people were being killed.

"During this time, is when Turin first encountered the fire dragon Glaurung." Now here is where Draco started paying very close attention, because when Thengal had first mentioned the spirit twenty four hours earlier, he had wanted to know exactly what it was like.

"Now dragons are not the dumb and witless creatures we believe them to be. Six thousand years ago, they were servants of Morgoth.

Yet Glaurung was a bit of a hybrid. He was a fearsome creature, but was also vastly intelligent, which made him a formidable opponent, and a man as prideful as Turin was already facing more than one enemy, both Glaurung and himself.

And it was here, that Glaurung displayed his intelligence even further when he taunted Turin and tricked the son of the house of Hurin, reminding him of images of his mother and sister who Turin had long thought were lost. He persuaded the man to leave and seek them, hinting that this was the only way to avoid his doom."

"But surely Turin didn't listen," Draco protested. "He would be too smart for that." Thengal gave a low chuckle.

"Let me tell you something lad," he said. "The ones who are the wisest often think themselves above pride and the pitfalls that are attached to it. But because they deem themselves so high above others, they do not see the ensnarement that is suddenly in their path, becoming larger and larger as they avoid all attempts to keep away from it."

Draco paused to consider that notion. "But if this is true, then why did Turin not see the results of the battle and realize that his pride was the cause of it? Why did he listen to Glaurung when there was no mention of his mother and sister for years?"

"T'is a very good question young master," Thengal said. "And it is one that has plagued me many a night. For the truth is, no one knows why Turin acted as he did. Some speculate that it was the death of Beleg by his own hand that drove him.

Others say that the hardness and willfulness began when his mother Morwen bade him go to the elves while he waited for his father. Still others think that it is when he fled from his adoptive family and refused to return.

But lad, the reasons of why he did what he did are not so as important as the fact that he did do them. Why the explanations behind a motive may be helpful, they are not the actions themselves.

So it was that Turin listened to Glaurung and instead of searching for Finduilas and the elves that had been captured, he turned his feet to Dor-lomin, in search of his kin.

However, once there, Turin learned of the treachery because his mother and sister were being sheltered in a place called Doriath.

Once more, Turin succumbed to his rage and began to track the Orcs who captured the elven princess back to Nargothrond. However, he soon learned, that she and her captured kin had been slain by their jailors."

Draco sucked in a breath when he heard this. Thengal nodded at his shock, the sorrow written plainly on his face in the light of the fire from the hearth. Draco was barely hearing the footsteps of the patrons of the inn around them.

"In my humble opinion, this is when Turin truly succumbed to grief, though the process started with the death of Beleg."

"Since you mentioned his sister and mother, what happened to them? You mentioned earlier that sorrow followed all of Hurin's children."

"Aye lad, I am returning to that. One of the most important things that you must remember for the rest of this telling is the fact that Turin did not know he had a sister. He believed himself to be an only child.

Now it is the knowledge of the death of Finduilas that drove Turin to seek refuge with the people of Haleth. They were a staunch resistant force in the battle against Morgoth for Middle Earth. And it is here, that Turin decided upon a new name for himself, and styled himself as _Turambar _meaning Master of Doom."

Draco grimaced as Thengal told onward. He had admired the son of Hurin for being a great warrior, but now he thought him to be an ignorant arrogant attention seeking prat. But maybe that had something to do with the death of his best friend. Draco pondered briefly what he would feel like if he had slain Blaise.

The notion made him feel ill. In truth, he may have reacted in the same way, he shouldn't be too quick to judge.

"But now lad, let me tell you of Morwen and Nienor, both of whom play a great and terrible role in the rest of Turin's life." Draco leaned forward and wrapped his hands around the mug of ale, his curiosity mounting.

"Upon hearing news of the acts of Turin and the sacking of Nargothrond, Morwen determined to find her son and seek some form of closure. And so she rode out of Doriath alone in search of him. King Thingol, who was Turin's adopted father sends soldiers after her however to keep her safe. And it is here when her daughter Nienor disguised herself as a soldier and rode out with them."

Draco raised an eyebrow, his lips tugging upwards into a smirk. For some reason that sounded exactly like something Hermione would do.

"When the search party approached Nargothrond, Glaurung is still there, and he scattered the small group, and it is here where the sorrow of Nienor began. She became separated from the groups and fled to the top of the hill where she encountered Glaurung for the first time.

However, their conversation did not go as one might expect for through it, the fire dragon demonstrated the great and terrible power of Morgoth."

"What did he do? Did he curse Nienor like he had her father?" Draco asked, trying to think of all the possibilities.

"Nay lad, because Glaurung was an intelligent beast, he knew who Nienor was instantly and from where she drew her patriarchy. And so he took her memories."

Draco frowned. "He erased who she was? How is that possible?"

"Remember lad, Glaurung was wielding the power of Morgoth, an incarnate being thousands of times more tenacious and cunning then you or I.

Finally the captain of guard who went with them found Nienor, and he was forced to take her back to Doriath, leading her by the hand. Unfortunately, the pair were attacked by Orcs, and Nienor flees into the forest to hide. It is here where Turin found her and took her back to Brethil where he had been staying."

_I have a bad feeling about this,_ Draco thought. Thengal continued.

"The leader of the town of Brethil is a man by the name of Brandir, and upon seeing Nienor, he fell in love with her. But she bore no more than sisterly affection for him. And unfortunately, because they had never seen her before, and it was he who had rescued her, Turin and Nienor developed a strong attraction for each other."

Draco sputtered and choked on the ale he had just taken a sip from. It took at least twenty seconds and Thengal pounding him on the back before the blonde was able to recover his voice again.

"He fell in love with his sister?" he finally managed to gasp out. Thengal nodded, his face very serious.

"Aye lad, but remember, he didn't know that she was his sister. And unfortunately, it was that ignorance that was the final piece of wood on the funeral pyre. Against the will of Brandir, the two of them married and Nienor became with child."

Draco was sure that at this point his face was going green. He felt ill all of a sudden. An act of incest was atrocious enough, but to be completely unaware that the woman you were in love with was in fact your own sister?

Thengal must have seen the horrified look on the blonde's face because he nodded in understanding.

"Aye, it was a tragedy, but not so much as what happens next."

Draco needed to stop thinking about this or he feared he would be even more appalled and disgusted.

"What happened to Glaurung?" he asked absently. Thengal smiled and rubbed his hands together. "I'm glad you asked lad, because the next part concerns him directly.

Glaurung had not forgotten about Turin and after a time, the dragon returned to the city of Brethil. However, Turin learned of his plans and managed to cut the dragon off at the ravine of Cabad-en-Aras. He stabbed the monster, but when he made to pull his hand out, the poisonous blood of the dragon stung it. The pain was enough to make Turin pass out.

Meanwhile, Nienor and some of the people of the town were curious to the goings on between the man and the beast and so they left the town to see the events that had transpired."

"Oh no," Draco muttered under his breath.

"When Nienor saw Turin, she feared that he was dead and began to weep over him. But Glaurung was not defeated yet, and with the last of his will, he opened his eyes and told her the truth, using the last of his prodigious strength to taunt her, pulling the veil from her eyes, uncovering the fact that Turin was her brother."

Draco could barely keep the grimace from covering his face. Thengal stared into the fire and took a sip from his mug of ale before continuing.

"Overcome with horror and shame, Nienor threw herself off the cliff and into the ravine below killing herself and the child she carried." Draco flinched and sucked in a breath. He certainly hadn't expected that type of ending.

"What happened to Turin?" he asked.

"When Turin awoke, Brandir who was with Nienor when she found him tells him the whole story. But Turin's pride blinded him again and he believed the tale to be a lie formulated by Brandir's love for Nienor. And so he stabbed him and killed him.

Overcome with grief, Turin flees into the woods where he chanced upon Mablung, the captain of the guard and his mother who had been searching for him for years. It is here where Turin learns the truth that Nienor really is his sister."

"What happened?" Draco asked dreading and dying to hear the end of the story. Thengal sighed heavily.

"Lad it is better that I tell you in the voice of Turin himself, for it is not a tale that you should forget."

"Tell me then," Draco said.

"When he had been told the truth of who his sister was, Mablung said to him: "You cannot have seen her?"

But Turin cried in a loud voice: "Can I not, can I not Mablung? But why not? For see I am blind! Did you not know? Blind, blind, groping since childhood in a dark mist of Morgoth! Therefore leave me! Go back to Doriath and may winter shrivel it! A curse upon Menegroth! And a curse on your errand! This was only wanting. Now comes the night!"

Then he fled from them, and fearing for him they followed. But Turin had run to the ravine again where he had slain the dragon. There he stood still and heard the roaring of the water.

"Cabad-en-Aras, Cabad Naeramarth!" he cried aloud. "I will not defile your waters where Nienor was washed. For all my deeds have been ill and the latest, the worst."

"What did he do?" Draco asked in a hushed voice. All the lines in Thengal's withered face seemed to turn downward and go grey. When he spoke again, his voice was low and gravely like one who spoke with the voice of doom.

"Then he drew forth his sword, and said: "Hail Gurthang, iron of death, you alone now remain! But what lord or loyalty do you know, save the hand that wields you? From no blood will you shrink. Will you take Turin Turambar? Will you slay me swiftly?"

Draco hissed through his teeth as he came to the realization of what was about to happen. Thengal stared into the fire.

"And from the blade rang a cold voice in answer: "Yes I will drink your blood, that I may forget the blood of Beleg my master, and the blood of Brandir slain unjustly, I will slay you swiftly."

And so Turin set the hilt upon the ground, and cast himself upon the point of Gurthang, and so the black blade took his life."

As the words of Thengal died away, the only sound that could be heard was the crackle of the fire and the popping of the sparks as they were cast into the air.

A long moment passed before Draco trusted himself to say anything. He was saddened and horrified by the story of Turin. But a curious emotion was building in him

Anger.

Thengal must have been a very good reader of expressions because he took one look at the blonde and got straight to the heart of the matter.

"What troubles you lad?" he asked. Draco sighed as he tried to gather himself.

"I can't help but think that if Hurin had just submitted to Morgoth, this might never have happened. Turin and his sister might have lived a long and happy life. There's something to be said for self-preservation."

Even as he said the words, Draco hated himself. But again, there was a reason why he had been sorted into the snake pit and not the lion's den.

He stared at the table even though he could feel Thengal's gaze burning a hole in his head. A long moment passed.

"Lad I do not say this lightly, as I am sure it is something that you have been told many times. Courage has nothing to do with what you feel. It is the way you act. Hurin chose to defy a creature infinitely more powerful than him because he believed that the presence of Morgoth was wrong. Despite his family and his life, he was a man of conviction and he lost everything because of it. Yet can we say that he regretted the choice? We will never know. But I am of the mind that had he joined Morgoth, his children still would have died, it would simply have been in a different way."

"But you cannot know that, no one can," Draco argued. He didn't know why he was doing it, but somehow it seemed fundamentally important for Thengal to understand his side as well. Slytherin's were all about intelligence, cunning self-preservation and manipulation. If Draco had been in Hurin's position, he would have succumbed long ago.

Thengal must have seen the conflicting emotions on the young man's face, but he didn't say anything. He didn't have to. Because sure enough a few moments later, Draco spoke again.

"It's just….my family always told you that courage made you do foolish things. That nothing good came from it….only death. That it is far safer get out when your instinct tell you to."

He didn't know where the thoughts were coming from but they just came pouring out of his mouth not meeting any resistance from his tongue, he didn't even try to pull them back. He desperately wanted to know.

Because when he had defended Hermione on the road earlier that day from the black rider, sure he had been afraid. But something more was overshadowing his fear, the judgment that something needed to be done and if it wasn't done, the consequences would be far worse than anything he might suffer if he did do something.

"Lad, I mean your family no disrespect, but why would they tell you something like that? My guess is that they were afraid of losing you to something they could not control."

The blonde looked up at the farmer, absently wondering if he was a seer. The man would have given Trelawney a run for her money. He gave the farmer a small smile which was returned.

"You doubt the credibility of bravery. And lad you have a point, there is such a thing as being brave and there is such a thing as being foolish. I think you know the difference and that is a very good thing.

But Hurin was a man of integrity and conviction, he was not a seer so there wasn't a way he could have foretold what would have happened. The only thing he had to do was live his life and find out. Some may have called it cowardice if he revealed the location of the elves to Morgoth, for remember that that was what the dark lord asked of him. And it is my firm belief that if he had, the world would have fallen and his children still would have died.

But the question that Hurin leaves those who hear his tragic tale, is which is better? To let the world fall into shadow or save your children from a preordained fate?"

"I don't know the answer to that question," Draco whispered in reply. In truth he had never felt so small. At Hogwarts the world had always looked black and white, he was on one side everyone else on another. That was the way it had always been.

"It is good that you admit that," Thengal said softly. "For I would not expect an answer now. You cannot know the answer until you are offered the choice. And lad, let us hope that you are never asked that question."

"Why did you tell me all this?" Draco asked, still feeling confused. The farmer took the final sip from his mug of ale.

"Because lad, you needed to see how far pride can take you, the awful things it can drive you to do. Murder, lust, power, they are all a product of arrogance. Turin's life was destroyed because of it. And something tells me you have had a near scrape with it as well.

"You see lad, the problem with pride is that it limits you." Draco frowned, that wasn't what he had expected to hear. "I beg your pardon?" he asked. Thengal's eyes twinkled in the firelight.

"Your eyesight narrows so that you are only able to see one possibility. Throughout Turin's story there were a myriad of choices, but Turin's gaze was narrowed so he could only see one. That was his downfall. For pride is the limitation of men."

The fire crackled loudly and Draco flinched as he remembered where he was. Sitting in a tavern after dark in Middle Earth with a farmer that had more wisdom in one finger then his father and Voldemort had in their entire bodies.

This was something completely unexpected

Draco set his mug of ale down before bidding Thengal goodnight and hurrying for the stairs to the second floor of the inn.

He needed to think.

Ω

Hermione was still standing at the window looking out when there was a creak and the door opened. She whirled around drawing her wand and the dagger at the same time. When she saw that it was just Draco though, she put them down.

He faced her, lips drawn up in the telltale smirk "Geez, Granger relax it's just me," he said. Hermione exhaled heavily. "Sorry, after a couple of hours went by and you didn't come up I got a little tense." Draco raised an eyebrow.

"Worried for me Granger?" She rolled her eyes, "Shut up you prat. We are in a completely different world and I had no idea who was going to come through that door. I may like it here, but I'm not going to let my guard down."

Draco raised his hands in a defensive gesture as he walked toward her. "I didn't expect you to. And speaking of not expecting things, what the hell was that about downstairs?"

Immediately Hermione's eyes grew guarded. "What do you mean?" Draco sighed and ran a hand through his hair, making it even more unruly. "You know bloody well what I'm talking about Granger. Why did you decide to snog me right in the middle of the diner?"

Hermione turned away from him so he wouldn't see her cheeks burning. "We are pretending to be married, I thought it best to give Thengal no reason to question that."

"Sure but a simple peck on the cheek would have been fine, you didn't have to go the whole nine yards."

Hermione whirled to face him. "If I remember correctly, you didn't do anything to stop me. In fact you seemed to be enjoying yourself!"

The blonde's eyes had widened and the smirk gracing his handsome face had turned into a full blown grin. "Well maybe I was."

That caught her off guard. "Wait….what?"

Draco folded his arms across his broad chest and gave her a look. "I said, maybe I was, and maybe it isn't as bad a thing as you're making it out to be."

"I never said it was a bad thing!"

"Maybe not, but your tone implied otherwise."

Hermione gave a sigh and sat down on the bed. "What are we even arguing about?" she asked tiredly. Draco chuckled and sat down next her. "I think we're just tired," He offered. "We've spent almost twenty four hours in the back of a hay cart. We're allowed to be a little bit bent out of shape."

The brunette offered him a wry smile before getting up, taking the cloak he had thrown on the bed and hanging it up on the hook next to hers.

"So what were you and Thengal talking about for so long?" She asked as she turned back to face him. The blonde rubbed the side of his face.

"Let's just say that he told me the rest of the Turin's story and no don't ask me to repeat it right now," he said interrupting when he saw her face light up. "Its late we're both exhausted and its time we got some sleep."

Hermione stayed her irritation and smiled sarcastically at him. "Yes dad," she replied and Draco rolled his eyes.

The witch nodded to the partition she had noticed went she had first come into the room. It was a tall wooden barrier, about six feet and ribbed almost like the old wooden shutters she had seen on the older houses in the English countryside. It would do for a separate room.

"Very well, I will go change," she said. The brunette bent and retrieved the sack full of clothes that Thengal had given them. She still had no idea where he had gotten it but she wasn't going to ask questions.

She quickly went and stood behind the partition and immediately began loosening the stays on her dress. Stepping out of it, she threw it over the top of the partition and began rifling through the bag, hoping to find something would do as sleepwear, if not she could always use her magic.

As she did so, she happened to look down at her hands and notice that they were slightly dirty. It was then that she remembered that she hadn't bathed since the day before yesterday. She grimaced.

"Malfoy?" she called out.

"Yeah?"

There doesn't happen to be a large basin behind the door of the room is there?" There was a pause and then some shuffling.

"Yeah there is."

"Okay, thanks."

Peeking out from behind the partition, Hermione pointed at the large basin with her wand and whispered: "_Accio Basin."_

It slid across the floor towards her and when it was close enough she reached out and pulled it behind the partition, thankful that it was a large space. Then she pointed at the basin and whispered: "_Aguamenti."_

Instantly, the basin filled with water. Hermione heated it with another quick spell and stepped into the water with a satisfied sigh.

The basin wasn't as large as the bath back home but at this point she didn't care that she had to draw her knees up to her chest just to fit inside. It just felt so good to be clean again.

She didn't want to take too long because she knew Draco needed to clean himself as well, but Merlin, the water felt so good. She refrained from washing her hair and after about five minutes, she quickly stepped out of the basin and dried herself.

Rifling through the sack, she met with success when her hand drew out a long white floor-length gown made of thick satin. At first glance it appeared a sheet, but when she took a closer look at it she realized it was a night gown. A very old fashioned one, she hadn't seen a garment like this in a long time, but it would adequate sleep wear. Quickly, she put it on.

Her hair, which she had tied up earlier that day to avoid the dust of travel, she pulled loose and fluffed with her fingers. With a quick spell she cleaned the water in the basin and heated it again for Draco.

Still running her fingers through her hair, Hermione exited the partition.

Draco who had been looking out the window, heard her approach and looked up. He blinked as if trying to remember who she was. Hermione frowned.

"Is something wrong?" She asked. Draco opened his mouth, but must have thought better about what he was going to say because he shut it a second later.

"Nothing," he said. Hermione shrugged. "Well, it's all yours," she said gesturing to the partition. Draco nodded and without another word, hurried back there. Within a few minutes she heard the water splash and knew he was in the basin.

The witch sat down on the edge of the bed which was surprisingly comfortable. She debated saying anything for a few minutes, but then decided to throw caution to the wind.

"So….what happens tomorrow?" She asked aloud. There was a pause from behind the partition.

"I'm not really sure, but I doubt we're going to find a way to create a portkey if we're stuck in the town all day. Maybe we should explore the outside?"

She didn't freak out like she thought she would. In fact it made the most sense out of anything they had come up with so far.

"I think that's a good idea," she responded. A second later Draco emerged from behind the partition running his hands through his hair. Hermione took one look at him and nearly burst out laughing.

"Just what are you wearing?" she asked as she tried unsuccessfully to stifle her giggles. Draco was wearing a billowing white shirt that was haphazardly tucked into the waistband of the black pants that completed the ensemble. The whole outfit was loose and ill fitting, but that would make it more comfortable to sleep in. His feet were bare.

_Give him the hat, eye patch, a pair of tall boots and a sword and he would be the perfect pirate,_ Hermione thought as she hid her smile behind her hands. Draco raised an eyebrow at her expression.

"Is something wrong?" he asked. Hermione shook her head without saying anything. "It's just, you look like you're ready for an adventure on the high seas."

Draco glanced down at his outfit. "Well what did you expect me to do? The clothes Thengal gave us aren't exactly the most appropriate for sleeping, although you got the better end of the deal," he said gesturing to her nightgown.

Hermione rolled her eyes but had to agree with him. Her sleepwear was so long that it brushed the floor and the sleeves went past her hands like her other dress had done. The neckline was modest, but the material was thick enough that she actually felt quite comfortable.

"And yet here I am, looking like someone robbed Black Beard the pirate," he complained turning around so he could get a better look at his ridiculous outfit. "Merlin if my mother could see me now, wouldn't she have something to say-"

"Malfoy."

He stopped when he realized she was talking to him. "What?"

Hermione patted the space beside her. "Would you stop being such a prat and come to bed?" A second later she froze. She must have looked like the deer caught in the car's headlights. The blonde's expression was equally blank.

_Sweet Merlin, I can't believe I just said that!_

After a second of silence though, Draco recovered first. He grinned. "You're not gonna put me on the floor?"

Hermione frowned. "Why would I do that? This bed seems quite big enough that we won't have to touch each other during the night and besides, I wouldn't want to sleep on the floor, so why would I make you do the same?"

Draco shrugged. "Alright sounds good to me." He went to make sure that the door was locked before coming back to the bed and pulling back the sheets. He sat down on the bed and pulled the blankets up to his chin before lying down next to her.

"And Malfoy?"

"Yes Granger?"

Hermione rolled over away from him. She was glad that they had left the fire burning, she didn't want to get cold during the night.

"Please don't get any ideas about feeling me up during the night. Let's not make this anymore awkward then it has to be?"

"Funny, I was about to say the same thing to you." Hermione snorted as she pulled the blankets up to her chin and shut her eyes.

"Sleep well Granger."

"Sweet dreams Malfoy."

This was going to be a long night.

Ω

**Whew! Finally chapter four is here. Sorry about the wait guys, but a little something called Life dragged me off the computer for the past two weeks. No matter though, the next chapter has arrived and I hope you guys liked it. As always, I sadly own nothing. Well Draco and Hermione have arrived in Bree. I apologize for the lack of action, but I felt that some things needed to be hashed out first. Fear not though, in the next few chapters, the action will pick up. Until next time, happy reading everyone!**


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter 5: The Black Riders

Draco Malfoy was having a nightmare.

He didn't get them very often, but this one was particularly vivid. He should have expected it of course, going through the horror of a war with Voldemort left permanent marks on even the strongest individuals.

He was far from strong. Like he been reminded with Thengal, there was a reason why he hadn't been sorted into the house of the lions. Slytherins were all about self-preservation, but he knew that it was just a cover up.

Self-preservation was just a twisted form of the word coward.

And that was the overarching theme of this dream.

_Draco Malfoy was standing in the ballroom of Malfoy Manor. His parents were standing off to the side part of the way into the shadows as if they were only semi-permanent in this past dream like state._

_ His aunt Bellatrix appeared to be the main character in this gruesome play. She was standing over a figure hunched up on the ground. It was a dark form, small and quivering, whether from cold or from fear he didn't know._

_ Maybe it was both. _

_ The ballroom was exactly like he remembered it. With its dark green draperies, tall window and marble floors. The crystal chandelier hung about fifty feet above them, every facet of the confrontation below it mirrored in the hanging gem like orbs._

_ His aunt turned to him. As usual she was wearing all black, and her while hair was piled around her face like the hair on a feral dog. It looked like it hadn't been brushed in months and was a veritable rat's nest. _

_ Her skin was pale and cold just like the rest of her and it was pulled so tight across her face that he could see her jawline and narrow cheekbones. Her dark eyes were even more manic than usual. In her left hand, she grasped her hawthorn wand. It was black just like her._

_ In her right though, she was holding a jeweled knife. It was encrusted with emeralds on the hilt and laced with pure silver throughout. _

_ But it was the crimson liquid that dripped off the point of the poniard that drew his attention like a moth to a flame. As it fell onto the floor it decorated the hair on the person that his maniacal aunt was standing over. It looked familiar._

_ It was a head of beautiful golden brown full curls. It was hair he would never be able to mistake for anyone else's._

_ As the horrible realization dawned on him, his eyes were drawn back to his aunt whose lips had pulled up into a feral snarl of a smile. Her teeth were pointed like a canine's would be and gleaming white._

_ "Come kill the Mudblood Draco," she said in that little girl tone of voice that made him want to rip his hair out from irritation. "Show the dark lord you are not weak like your father and he will reward you beyond your wildest dreams."_

_ Slowly, as if in a trance, the blonde stumbled forward. He didn't know why he was moving, but it was as if an invisible force was pulling at his legs. He tried to get his muscles to seize up, but they simply weren't responding. _

_ At a dragging, painstaking pace, he slowly approached his aunt. As he did so, she raised the dagger for him to grasp ahold of her, her eyes never leaving his._

_ "Take it Draco, and make the Dark Lord proud to count you as one of his followers."_

_ As if in a trance, the blonde reached up and took hold of the decorative knife. His aunt backed away and suddenly disappeared into the shadows._

_ And Draco was left with the familiar form of Hermione Granger._

_ Still gripping the knife, he looked down at her and flinched as she slowly turned her head to face him. _

_ Draco sucked a curse back through his teeth along with the air he had been about to breathe out. There were scratched on her face, her arm was bent at an odd angle and he could clearly see the words "Mudblood" inked into her arm like some terrible beacon drawing his attention again and again and again._

_ She opened her eyes, those beautiful golden brown eyes of hers that he had once called muddy just like the rest of her._

_ There was no way he could think of her in that way now. Her eyes, like the rest of her, were nothing short of beautiful, and he couldn't believe he had ever thought otherwise._

_ Draco was suddenly painfully aware of the dagger was still held tightly in his fist. Without even thinking twice, he loosened his grip and the blade clattered to the floor._

_ The instant the shard hit the ground however, his aunt appeared again and retrieved it in one fell swoop._

_ "Wrong choice dear nephew. You refused to kill the dirty Mudblood, the dark lord will never have a use for you. It would see that I have to do all of the dirty work myself."_

_ Then before Draco could even begin to raise a hand to stop her, she had swung the knife in a downward arc, quicker than he could follow…..and plunged it into Hermione's chest._

_ "No! Draco screamed as he dropped to his knees beside the beautiful brunette and rolled her over. There was blood everywhere but he barely paid attention to it as it soaked into his robes._

_ He stared up at his aunt, eyes blurring, half mad with grief. _

_ "What have you done?!" he screamed._

_ Bellatrix smiled at him, a cruel manic smile that showcased the depths of how inhuman she really was. _

_ "Something you were too coward to do."_

_ With that, she faded away into the blackness leaving the blonde alone with the slowly draining body of Hermione Granger._

_ "Just…just try not to move," he choked out as he slowly turned her over. Her lips were moving but no sound was coming out and he could see with horror and panic that the life was slowly seeping from her eyes. _

_ It wouldn't be long now._

_ "You are not dying on me Granger," he hissed. A sound came from her throat and he had to lean closer to hear her._

_ But as he did do, he heard words, he had never expected to hear coming out of her mouth._

_ "You failed….you coward."_

"No!" Draco cried shooting up from the bed. His eyes were wide looking around widely for a fight but finding none.

The room was still dark, betraying the fact that only a few hours had passed. He let out a soft groan and pulled his legs up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them, and dropped his forehead to the top of his knees, the dream still fresh in his mind.

It hadn't been the first one he had ever had about Death Eaters since the Dark Lord had taken up residence at Malfoy Manor, but it had been the first about Hermione.

And that was more than a little unsettling. He didn't put any stock in divination, it all meant jack to him. And this was an event that had already happened.

Well, not the Hermione dying part, but….but that was crazy. Voldemort and Bellatrix were dead, they were in a completely different world and there was no crazy ark wizard here.

At least…..not that he knew. But then he remembered the dark rider on the road earlier and the room seemed to grow colder.

None but he and Hermione had heard what it had said, but that didn't matter, it had said the words and they had more prophetic quality than anything Trelawney had issued.

_It is not him that I have come for….._

The blonde shivered and looked down at the brunette lying next to him. She was curled on her side away from him and her curly hair was splayed across the pillow like a golden brown halo. All the worry and stress seemed to leave her face when she was asleep and all the sadness and fear of the war had dissipated.

Instead of lying back down however, Draco pushed the blanket and got to his feet, padding quietly across the floor to the window. As he looked out, he could see rain slashing against the glass in long silver waves. Thunder rumbled in the distance and lightning flashed in jagged lines across the sky. That must have been what had woken him.

The world outside was completely grey and totally devoid of color. The sky was an ashy charcoal color and the stars had disappeared completely.

Draco sighed and ran a hand through his pale hair making it even messier. The nightmares had started as soon as Voldemort had taken up residence in Malfoy Manor. His aunt Bellatrix certainly didn't help the situation. Draco felt they should have put a wand through her brain the first time she went to Azkaban, but it didn't matter anymore as they were both dead and the wizarding world freed.

But that didn't affect the fact that Voldemort was still tormenting him in his dreams. And worse than that was the fact that he was using the beautiful brunette lying ten feet away from him to do it. And in every dream the word _coward _would make an appearance until he was sure that one day he would look down and see it inked into his skin in the exact same way that the word _Mudblood _was inked into Hermione's.

Out of curiosity, he slowly turned and made his way back to the bed before gently taking Hermione's hand in his a pulling it slowly outside the covers. Then he slowly pushed the sleeve of her nightgown up until the word came into view.

It was a word that he had grown to hate because it was a lie. Draco now realized there was nothing he hated more than a liar. He had seen enough blood shed by Muggleborns to know that it was all the same color, there was nothing different between their blood and his.

Absently, he gently ran his thumb over the scar that was forever embedded in Hermione's perfect skin. It was the only blemish that he could see on her.

As he ran his thumb across the slightly uneven skin, Hermione stirred in her sleep. Draco jumped back, panicked that she would wake up, but all she did was move her arm back under the blankets as if she were cold and the blonde breathed a sigh of relief.

He wouldn't have known how to explain why he was doing what he was doing, but he felt that it was important that he see that word just one more time. Then he would leave behind forever all ridiculous pureblood notions of blood supremacy and magical genocide.

It was all fabrications of a magical community created because they were afraid of Muggles. It was the most backwards laughable concept he had ever heard when he considered it and broke it down.

But that didn't mean that he didn't feel guilty for the part that he had played in it. He had after all believed the lies, listened to the doctrine acted on the cult like notions and only realized it just in time to join the right side before the battle ended.

He knew if he had stayed, he probably would have faced a lifetime sentence in Azkaban for his part in the death of Albus Dumbledore, but it wasn't like he had meant to fall into another dimension with the very witch he had hurt the most.

_There you go, making excuses again, _his conscience whispered. _When are you going to put that behind you hmm?_

Draco gave a small growl of frustration. Old habits did die hard. And he genuinely was trying to change. The stories that Thengal had told him had struck home. The old farmer had been right there was a place for both courage and cunning to work together. He would have to figure it out, but he knew he was on the right path to change.

Feeling slightly better and less shaken from the dream that had disturbed his rest, Draco turned and crawled back into bed next to Hermione, pulled the blanket up to his chin and didn't wake for the rest of the night.

Ω

Sunlight streamed through the window and touched Hermione's half open eyes, causing her to groan slightly and shift her muscles to a more comfortable position. She was lying atop something very hard but also incredibly warm and surrounded by white.

She frowned and squinted.

It was then that she realized her head wasn't resting on a pillow, but rather on Draco Malfoy's chest. His arms were wrapped around her and she was curled into his side.

_Oh Merlin…._

The realization was so startling that she nearly leaped up from the bed in surprise, but after taking a few seconds to assess what was going on, she started to relax, albeit marginally.

It was perfectly normal that they had curled into each other. They were both the warmest things in the bed. It was biologically natural that their bodies would want to be near that warmth. Nothing unusual about this at all.

Yeah right.

Very slowly, Hermione pulled her arms from around his side and lastly raised her head from his chest which was rock hard but deliciously warm.

_Oh Merlin, _Hermione thought as she sat up carefully so as not to wake him. _Did I just use the word delicious in relation to Draco Malfoy?! Yes well, its official then….I have lost my bloody mind. _

However, before she had time to assess to what degree of insane she was, she felt Draco stir beside her.

Casting aside all attempts at subtlety, Hermione shot the rest of the way up and slid her feet over the side of the bed and onto the floor so as to give off the appearance that she was about to get up.

She glanced back down to see Draco's silver blue gaze on her. His hair was mused from sleep and she could see the faint shadow of stubble on his cheeks

"Morning Granger," he said softly. His voice was still rough from sleep and sounded almost like a low grumble. Completely out of the blue, her heart began to pound.

She quickly looked away and got up. "Morning Malfoy," she said equally as quietly as she walked to the window and slowly pushed it open to let in the sunshine and early morning spring breeze.

Hermione turned back to find that the blonde had raised himself up on one of his arms and was watching her closely. She felt her cheeks heat under his gaze, but she pulled her hair down around her shoulders so that it stayed hidden.

"Did you sleep well?" he asked almost carefully. Hermione turned from the window and met his gaze, the expression on his face bringing a frown to hers.

"Yes, and you?" she asked as she moved back to the bed and sat down on the extreme edge of it. He nodded.

"It's probably because I have spent the last two days in a cart, but that was the best sleep I have had in a long time."

"Thengal says it's the air. Air from Middle Earth isn't like the air from Britain. There's no pollution here. Every breath is like your lungs are being unclogged," Hermione murmured. Draco nodded a small smile lighting his face and for a moment, Hermione stared at him, mesmerized.

"You should smile more often you know," she said quietly. Mentally she was screaming at herself, unwilling to believe that she had said that, but outwardly, she was perfectly calm.

Draco blinked and the two stared at each other for a moment, before Hermione practically launched herself off of the bed and hurried behind the partition casually calling out to her traveling companion: "I think I will get dressed now."

As soon as she was behind the partition, she wanted to scream at herself. Now was not the time to be getting sentimental. They needed to see about some way of getting to the elves and obtaining their help to return home.

But the more she thought about it, the more the idea of returning caused a bitter taste to rise in her mouth. Hermione had left the magical world behind because her parents were dead and Harry and Ron would be too caught up in their own self-importance to notice her disappearance. If she was honest with herself, she was angry with them too.

Angry because Ron had chosen to abandon her and Harry in the war for something as petty as his growling stomach. When things became hard, he up and quit and Hermione had lost a lot of respect for him because of that. She and Harry had been the ones who had suffered most in the war. They were the ones who had lost their parents and didn't have a home to go back to.

And even still Harry had chosen to forgive Ron so easily when he came back just in time to destroy a Horcrux. She didn't understand it. Ron had lost far less then she and Harry had. That was another reason for her departure. She was sure that Ron would want to talk about what had happened in the Chamber of Secrets and for some reason, she just couldn't.

Her feelings for him had started to develop in their third year, but if she were being completely honest with herself, she would say that she was more in love with the idea of being in love then she was with him. The kiss in the Chamber had been nice, but that was all it was….just nice.

Unbidden the memory of kissing Draco the previous day came rushing back and her cheeks flamed. That kiss had been far more heated and passionate then the one she had given Ron. She felt guilty even thinking it, but if she had to choose to kiss one of them again, she would probably want to kiss Draco more. Which made her feel both ill and giddy.

Shaking her head, she cleaned herself up and rummaged around in the sack that Thengal had given them before she struck gold and pulled out a simply navy blue dress with a wide leather belt tied around its waist.

_I think I'm going to have to get used to wearing dresses as long as I am here because it seems to be the norm. _

With a quick spell she cleaned her clothes from the previous day and shoved them into the sack that Thengal had provided them with. She left the sack behind the partition for Draco to use, but made sure that she drew the knot tight so that nothing fell out. They would have to come back and get it before they left.

Then, after strapping the dagger Thengal had given her to her waist and fluffing her fingers through her hair, she emerged from behind the partition. Draco was standing at the window, hair still mused and shirt still ruffled from sleep. He turned at her approach and blinked when he saw her.

Hermione frowned as she stood there a little self-consciously fluffing out her hair and straightening the wrinkles from her dress.

"I don't think I'm ever going to get used to these things," she muttered almost apologetically. Draco chuckled from somewhere deep in his throat before walking past her towards the partition to change himself.

"I think you should wear them more often Granger. I'll smile more often if you keep wearing dresses. Got it?"

Hermione was so shocked that she didn't even find the breath to respond. Good thing he had disappeared behind the partition so that she didn't have to. Instead, she turned and made the bed before sitting down on the edge of it primly, folding her hands in her lap and looking out the window at the beautiful sunshine, listening to the call of the patrons of Bree below her say good morning.

There had been many times over the last two days since she had been here that she thought she could get used to this place. It was so beautiful and tranquil here. The idea of living on her own didn't really appeal to her, but it was a sacrifice she was willing to make. The idea of leaving made her feel sad and she didn't know why.

But then she vowed to put it out of her mind. She would use this time as a vacation, a chance to get away, because after all, relaxation was exactly what she needed.

"Okay, you may not think you'll ever get used to dresses, but I don't think I'll ever get used to this."

Hermione turned and felt her jaw go slack in astonishment at the sight that walked out from behind the partition.

Draco was wearing what could loosely be described as a pair of dark breeches tucked into brown leather lace up boots that ended just below his knees. He was wearing a dark green loose fitting shirt that was laced at the top and over it was a black leather vest that was left open. The shirt had long billowing sleeves which hung to his wrists and loose leather straps hung from the vest.

Hermione pursed her lips as she perused his bizarre outfit. Part of her wanted to laugh and the other part wanted him to simply stand there for a while longer so she could get a better look at him.

She noticed that his pale hair was still mused, but not so much as before. Completely unconsciously, she started to smile. And not just any smile, it was a big goofy grin that she hadn't had grace her features in Merlin knew how long. Immediately after that, like a well of spring water bubbling up after a fresh rain, she started to giggle….and giggle hysterically.

Hermione sat there on the bed giggling like mad while Draco Malfoy stood in front of her, arms folded across his broad chest trying very hard to adopt his familiar sneer, except this time, it wasn't working.

He had never heard her laugh like that before, and it was contagious, he started to smile along with her.

After a few minutes though, Hermione got up and walked toward him.

"Merlin Malfoy, all you need is a bow, quiver of arrows and the right hat and you've got the Robin Hood look down," she said still chuckling.

"In one night I go from Blackbeard the Pirate to Robin Hood," he muttered, but then a smirk came to his lips. "So if I'm Robin Hood, what does that make you? Maid Marion?"

Hermione paused as she adjusted his collar, thanking every star in the heavens that he couldn't see the way her cheeks flamed at his statement.

"I am whatever I want to be," she replied quietly and stepped back and admired her handiwork. "There now you look presentable," she said. "We should probably get down to breakfast before Thengal thinks we've gone missing."

With that, she snatched their cloaks from the hook on the wall, grabbed Draco's hand and pulled him from the room, locking it behind her as she tried not to think about his curious Maid Marion statement.

When the blonde and the brunette arrived downstairs in the busy inn, they immediately noticed Thengal sitting across the room at the same table they had inhabited last night.

Hermione and her companion exchanged glances before hurrying over and sitting down across from the form of the old farmer.

"Good morning Thengal," she said cheerily as Draco exchanged pleasantries as well. He glanced up from his plate and smiled at the both of them.

"Good morning lass, Master Draconis. I trust you slept well?"

"Yes, it was quite nice to be in a bed after spending untold hours in the back of a wooden cart," the brunette said with a chuckle. Draco however, said nothing, the sudden memory of his dream suddenly racing back to him.

It was then that he noticed the three steaming plates of food sitting on the table in front of them. Immediately, out of the blue his stomach growled.

Thengal chuckled and gestured to the plates. "I took the liberty of getting us something to eat." Draco nodded in thanks and immediately began to dig in to the bacon and eggs and mushrooms. While the food smelt heavenly, something was bothering Hermione.

"Thengal, this must be costing a pretty penny. How are you paying for all of it?" she asked carefully. She didn't want to offend him when he had helped them far more then she had expected. At her words, Draco glanced up at the farmer and cast him a questioning look.

The farmer sighed and rubbed his hands together as if to warm them.

"Lass, this….hospitality that you are receiving is courtesy of a wager that I won with Minas, the owner. I told him I would collect it upon my return into town. It was simply good fortune that I happened to chance upon you only my way here to settle our deal."

Draco began to chuckle. The old farmer had a Slytherin streak in him. The blonde knew there was a reason why he had liked him. And after all, one couldn't afford to look a gift horse in the mouth.

"So this isn't costing you a thing?" Hermione asked, somewhat skeptically. Thengal grinned at her and shook his head, causing Hermione to smile slightly.

"Well very well then," was all she said before she dug into her own food. The farmer chuckled and went back to his plate.

For a few minutes they were all silent around the table. The food wasn't overflowing but it was hearty, for which both Draco and Hermione were both very thankful. After today they were unsure of where their next meal would come from so taking it for granted or wasting it an in any way was not an option for either of them.

After a few minutes though, Thengal spoke up.

"I will go to sell my wares today, what might you be doing to preoccupy yourselves young masters?"

The blonde and the brunette exchanged glances. Hermione knew she should probably suggest some plan for finding their way home, it was a complete and utter surprise to her when she heard herself say: "I would kind of like to see the countryside and the forests around here. It is really such a beautiful place."

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Draco raise an eyebrow, but the blonde said nothing and kept chewing for which she was grateful.

The farmer pushed his empty plate away and leaned back in his chair rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

"Well you would need a horse in order to get around and to be back within the gates by nightfall. Bree doesn't let folk in after a certain amount of time, strange people are about in this day and age."

Hermione's face fell as she realized that they didn't have a horse at their disposal. Thengal must have seen the disappointed look for a second later, he snapped his fingers and grinned like he had made an important discovery.

"Well, I only have need of one horse for my day's activities, why don't you take the other? It's only necessary that I have one after all."

Draco and Hermione exchanged glances over their food. Draco started to smile and the brunette found herself beginning to as well. She had wanted to ask Thengal if he knew of some way that they could reach the elves, but the more she thought about, the more she realized she could wait until the evening.

"Are you sure?" she asked carefully. Thengal nodded over a mouthful of eggs. "Lass, you need to learn to stop being so polite, it's appropriate in certain situations, but if something has been offered to you in good faith, the second inquiry of obtaining it is not necessary," he capped this sentence with a small smile.

Hermione ignored the amused look Draco was sending her and gave a sheepish nod. Thengal clapped his hands together. "Good, but ensure that the both of you are back within the town before nightfall, because the doors will be locked."

The blonde and the brunette nodded and Hermione suddenly found herself smiling hugely. Thengal scraped off his empty plate and said he would return shortly, he simply needed to ensure a few things.

When he was gone, Hermione leaned back in her seat and smiled. She didn't know why but she felt so relaxed right then.

"You seem happy," Draco observed. Hermione sucked her teeth. "I feel happy, although I'm not sure why."

Draco nodded and was about to reply when Thengal returned. In one hand the farmer was holding a brown wrapped parcel and in the other he was holding a long sheathed sword which he passed to a surprised Draco.

"I know that I gave you a weapon last night lass, but I would feel better if you both had something."

Looking a little shocked Draco took the blade and looked it over. It was the same coloring as the dagger that Hermione now had strapped to her side, but the cross guard was more silvery then gold and the sheath was a very dark red, almost burgundy in color.

Draco stared at it as if in a trance.

"Thank you Thengal," was all he said after a moment. Hermione saw that he had an odd look on his face.

She knew that they were both carrying their wands, but Draco was holding the sword as if it were the most precious thing he had ever held. She decided to turn the attention off of her blonde companion.

"Thank you for everything Thengal," she said standing an embracing the old farmer. He seemed a little flustered at first but then patted her back, smiling softly.

"Ah, you're welcome lass, I'll go an unhitch one of the horses."

As soon as he was gone, Hermione turned and sat down across from the Slytherin. "What was all that about?" she asked.

Draco, who was still staring at the sword, blinked and looked up at her as if just realizing she was there.

"I just….I've never had one of these before. I always wanted one. But my father would always ask what I needed it for when magic was far more efficient."

"So why did you want a sword?" Hermione asked curiously. Draco ran his hand down the sheath of the blade, an odd smile coming to his face.

"I took fencing lessons when I was younger, because my father insisted that it was a worthwhile sport and even the ancient wizards such as Merlin fought with swords on occasion when they weren't in possession of their wands. But he never let me have on because he insisted that I never needed it. But I think this was something that I wanted more than a new broom."

Hermione just stared at him, he had just spoken more about his home life then she had ever expected to hear. And it almost sounded normal…..as normal as life in the Malfoy household could be that was.

To distract herself, Hermione picked up the brown wrapped parcel that Thengal had left on the table and unlaced the twine binding it.

She smiled when she saw that it was a loaf of bread, a large wedge of cheese and a small round of bacon. _Well there's lunch taken care of, _she thought grinning to herself. She rewrapped the package and turned to the blonde.

"Suppose we go on outside and see about that horse that Thengal is unhitching?" she asked. Draco nodded, grip still tight on the sword. They stood and hurried out the doors of the inn and into the sunshine.

Their timing proved efficient because as soon as the witch and wizard set foot outside of the doors, Thengal had just removed the last piece of baggage from the horse leaving it fully saddles and bridled with a small saddle bag left hanging on the one side of it. Hermione tucked their lunch into the bag and stepped back to admire the horse which she hadn't had a chance to do previously.

"What a magnificent creature," she murmured as she ran her hand down its left flank. And it was. The horse or stallion rather, was midnight black, its coat glossy and supple having recently been brushed. His mane was long and loose and every few seconds, he would snort and paw the ground as if he was as eager to be off on this adventure as the people who would be riding him were.

Thengal patted the side of the midnight horse smiling. He nodded at Draco.

"Make sure you bring him back in good condition," Thengal said chuckling, "my team wouldn't be able to function without him."

After ensuring that they would care for his horse, Thengal stepped aside so that Hermione and Draco could mount him.

This is when Hermione began to get a little nervous. She had ridden a horse a few times as a child, but never professionally and she had never been on its back for long.

Thankfully instead of watching her embarrassment, Thengal wished them luck and turned to work on something in the back of the cart.

"You ready Granger?" Draco asked. Hermione took a deep breath and nodded. He held out the stirrup so she could place her foot in it and she was too nervous to comprehend that not only would she be riding on a horse with him, but that she would be sitting with her back to his chest. It would be the closest they had ever been since sleeping in the same bed the night before.

Yet the only thought going through her mind was, _Merlin I hope I don't do anything stupid._

She proceeded to place her foot in the stirrup and grasp a hold of the saddle horn before swinging herself into the saddle.

She closed her eyes briefly thanking all the stars above that no one was around to witness her mounting the horse as ungracefully as she was sure it had looked.

But what happened after would have her cursing all the way to Rohan and back. With all the lithe agility of the Seeker he had been, Draco mounted the horse behind her with much more ease then she.

Hermione tried not to stiffen up in panic when she felt his arms go around her to take hold of the reins.

"Maybe….maybe I should have ridden in the back," she managed to stammer out. Draco chuckled and she could practically feel the rumbling in his chest as he laughed, which only served to transfigure her even more into a board.

"That would be impolite Granger, the lady is always supposed to mount the horse first when she is riding with someone else."

"Since when did you become such an expert on horse riding etiquette?" she asked somewhat indignantly.

She could practically feel his smirk. "Granger, I've been riding a horse since I could walk. My mother found the Muggle activity particularly relaxing and so she insisted to the chagrin of my father that I learn. I've been riding a horse before I could ride a broom."

Yet another thing she had discovered about the infamous blonde from Slytherin.

She tried to steady her breathing, unsure if it was because of the fact that she hadn't been on a horse in a number of years or the fact that she was sitting so close to Draco Malfoy, but she decided for once that she wasn't going to analyze and just try and enjoy what might be a pleasant ride.

She saw Draco wave goodbye to Thengal and she did the same before he pulled on the reins and the horse sprang forward down the streets of Bree and out the gates.

If Hermione wasn't stiff before, she certainly was now. She was bracing herself against the saddle, eyes squeezed tightly shut, the only air she was breathing in was barely making it past her clenched teeth and her mouth was as dry as the Sahara desert.

She was so stiff she barely noticed when the horse began to slow to a trot and walked at a brisk pace.

Hermione felt Draco's chest rumble with laughter against her back. "You can open your eyes Granger, we haven't gone off the road into a ditch yet. In fact I'm offended that you think that."

Slowly, carefully, Hermione unclenched her eyelids and gasped quietly when she saw that they had indeed exited Bree and were briskly trotting down the path past the small farms and the farmers in the fields.

The farm country around Bree was even greener then it was the day before. The houses were low to the ground, so much so that they almost looked like the burrows of rabbits because they had grass and flowers and weeds growing on the roof. The doors were completely circular and there was a brass doorknob in the center of each one. There were wheelbarrows in the yard as well as gardening tools. Everything about these little houses was quite….quaint. In fact it almost reminded her of the Burrow back home.

As she Draco trotted down the path atop the black horse, Hermione noticed the water mill and the pond off to the left of them. It was calmly and dutifully churning out water as it moved down through the small pond. It was incredibly tranquil.

The farmers were off in the fields, carts being pulled by plow horses, raking up the earth as they did so, and spilling a multitude of seeds on the ground. The laughter of children playing was in the air and for some reason, Hermione found herself smiling hugely.

The sun was shining and the birds were calling to one another from across the pathway. Hermione closed her eyes for a moment breathing in the fresh air. It was sweet and literally smelled of spring. There wasn't a cloud in the sky and when she opened her eyes, she could see the mountains off in the distance.

"I could get used to this," Draco murmured and inadvertently, she shivered. But she had to admit, rising a horse through countryside like this was beyond pleasant. She couldn't see the mountains in detail like she used to yesterday, but there snow-capped peaks seemed to call to her in the breeze that lifted the hair from her face and in the way the sun set her face aglow as she raised her head to it to feel its warmth.

From this distance, they looked as blue as the sea and on each plateau fluffy white clouds were situated. The greens of Fangorn Forest which went for miles could clearly be seen halfway up the mountainside and the contrast of greens and blues was breathtaking.

Hermione found her eyes opening even wider as she tried to take it all in. She had thought the grounds of Hogwarts, situated in the Scottish Highlands were beautiful, but this…..this was absolutely mind blowing.

_I don't think I want to go home. _

The sudden unexpected thought caused her to nearly jump, as it had come right out of the blue. _Where did that come from?_ She wondered.

But she didn't have time to think about it because as soon as she did, Draco dug his heels into the horses' side and they sprang forward again, galloping until they had left the town behind them.

Hermione sucked in a breath as the air blew past her, but as the minutes ticked by and Draco showed no signs of stopping the horse as they galloped thunderously along the pathway and away from the farmlands, up into the hills and away from the forestlands until after about an hour of galloping, they stopped at the borderland between the lands of the Shire so that they were within sight of the plains of Rohan.

They were still many miles from it, but something about the rugged countryside called to Hermione, seemed to whisper her name on the breeze and in the sunshine was getting steadily warmer as the day wore on.

Draco pulled the horse to a halt atop a grassy hill that offered a perfect view of the plains of Rohan in the distance and the greenery of Fangorn Forest as well as the majesty of the Misty Mountains off in the distance.

Swinging his leg out of the stirrup, Draco dismounted and offered her his hand which she gratefully accepted before slowly easing herself out of the saddle and onto the grass beside him. For a moment the two said nothing, each of them just staring out at the horizon, watching the wind blow clouds across the sky.

The sunshine appeared more golden than any in magical Britain and for once, there were no sounds. Nothing but the gusting of the wind.

"I could get used to this," Draco whispered and Hermione whirled to face him. Her expression must have been incredulous because he caught it and raised an eyebrow. "What?"

"Staying here….would be something you…..would want to do?" she asked slowly. The blonde turned away and looked once more over the mountain tops. A slight breeze ruffled his hair and the light had turned his face to gold.

"I might consider it," he began slowly. "I mean, it's a fresh start, there's no Ministry here, no Azkaban, no one to judge me. I have a fresh slate. I mean really, what do I have to go back to? We're not even sure we can get back. I'm a completely different person here, no one knows me. I can make a life for myself. Tell me, what are the drawbacks of that?"

"Well, what about your mother?" Hermione asked softly. "Wouldn't you miss her? I know what it's like to lose parents Malfoy and you're mother is someone who has always protected you."

A shadow of pain stole across the blonde's face. "I know," he muttered staring down at his feet. "But knowing her, she won't get any type of sentence and my father stopped being my father when he made the decision for me to bind myself to the Dark Lord. So I could care less what he thinks. He and my mother are in hiding anyway. The only reason I left was because I wanted to strike out on my own. She knew that there was a possibility that I might never come back."

Hermione could feel his pain. "If you were able to bring your mother here….would you?" she asked. Draco nodded without any hesitation. "In a heartbeat."

The witch pursed her lips.

"What about you?" Draco asked. He walked back over to the horse and took hold of its reins slowly leading it into a walk down the hill as Hermione followed.

"What about me?" she asked.

"Would you want to go back to your old life after seeing all of this?" he asked. Hermione frowned. "Malfoy we've only been here for three days. I hardly think that constitutes a life changing decision like relocating to a different world."

The former Slytherin stopped, causing her to nearly plow right into him. "But if you were offered the choice….right here right now…..to go back to Hogwarts and leave this all behind as if it were a dream….would you do it?"

Hermione was silent for a long while as she contemplated his question. She was somewhat irritated that they had been following the same line of thinking for the past three days. She wasn't sure what she wanted and she was hesitant to say anything.

"I don't know," she said honestly. "I don't really have much to go back to. I mean, my parents are gone and if anything they would be the biggest factor in my decision."

"Over Potter and Weasley?"

"Yes, even over them. My parents were my first priority and now that they're gone, my life is my own. I mean, it's always been like that, but I have a bit more freedom now."

"Would you like to stay in a place like this?" Draco asked tentatively. Hermione frowned at his tone, but decided not to address it. She was still getting used to how different he was acting. But then, she supposed that it had something to do with the fact that he was away from all his old influences, and the war had changed people, even him.

So really, it wasn't all that astonishing to comprehend, if they were back at school then it would be, but they weren't so it didn't. She was seeing a side of Malfoy she was sure only his mother had ever seen pieces of. He still had the famous Malfoy trademark smirk and drawling tone of voice when he was being sarcastic. But the sneer she didn't see anymore and the mean streak he had had up until their fourth year was almost gone.

"I suppose the lack of prejudice makes it also something to consider as well," she mused and then stiffened when she realized what she had said aloud. Draco was still leading the horse, but he paused when he heard what she had said and gave her a strange look.

"What do you mean?" he asked. Hermione licked her lips nervously, the following subject was something that she had always skirted around because it made her uncomfortable, but there was no reason for them not to talk about it now, so she decided to throw caution to the wind.

"I no longer have to worry about the differences between pure bloods, half bloods and Muggleborns. We're all the same here. There's no difference in blood, we're all human. That at least is something we all have in common."

Draco's expression as they walked was unreadable. Then again, she had always had a difficult time ascertaining what he was thinking. The past few days it had become a little easier as she had spent more time with him here then she had ever done at home.

"I suppose you have a point," he said finally. "Life without all the prejudice is a little odd though. Refreshing but odd. There isn't pressure to maintain reputation, we have practically nothing here, and strangely, that's a relief."

Hermione stared at him. She didn't think she would ever see the day where Draco Malfoy admitted to being glad to be poor. Perhaps staying here was a good idea if this side of him kept coming out.

They kept walking up and down the hills on the plains, there was a green forest off to their left, but both decided to forego entering it for fear of getting lost and encountering strange animals. They both had their wands with them, but there was no sense in being foolhardy and reckless, Hermione reasoned. She wanted to smile after, because that was one of the most Slytherin thoughts she had ever had.

The plains they were walking on were a little like the plains of Rohan except the land was more rolling and green, less like a sea of wheat and more like farm country. Except for the chirping of the birds, all was quiet.

"Do you miss them?" Draco asked suddenly, nearly causing her to flinch in surprise. She glanced at him.

"Miss who?"

"Potter and Weasley."

Hermione bit the edge of her lip as she pondered her answer. Either way she wouldn't be telling the whole truth.

"It hasn't been long enough for me to miss them," she said carefully. "I left Hogwarts when the celebration banquet was still going on. Harry is probably trying to put his life back together right about now. And Ron is still probably basking in the glow of being a member of the trio that helped to collectively bring down Voldemort."

"Yeah, I guess when you're poor, fame is something you're constantly grasping for because you need some way to be recognized besides money."

Hermione shot him a look and was surprised when a muscle jerked in his cheek. "Sorry." She blinked.

"I'm sorry, did Draco Malfoy just apologize to me?" The blonde sent her a smirk. "Hey, I'm not completely inhuman."

Hermione chuckled, "I never thought that you were."

Ω

The sun may have been shining, but there was still a dark streak traveling across the plains of Rohan. It moved with frightening speed and fluidity and if one were to look closely enough, they would see flashes of silver appearing in the black.

Every so often, a terrible screeching noise would emanate from somewhere in the mist, soon to be replied to with another terrible screeching noise.

The sun may have been shining, but the Black Riders were on the move.

Ever since the meeting at Dol Guldur between the Rider and the Darkness, messages had been whispered across the land, messages sent to the Riders to gather at the Elven fortress and to make for the plains of Rohan with all haste.

And why?

Because a power had been discovered, a power to rival the might of the Maiar. A power that was too great to ignore by the Master of Darkness as its servants.

So that was how the Nine were to be found thundering across the plains, cold and terrifying determination in the hooves of every one of their strides.

Their horses were foaming at the mouth, but still they kept on, moving steadily like an encroaching mist covering all in its path in shadow. The vegetation along the road seemed to wither and die, for those that came upon it were in fact dead as well.

The wraiths never tired. They never wearied of seeking power for even in death their souls were bound to the One Ring. They would never be free of it, save the destruction of their master.

At their head, rode the Witch King. The most fearsome of them all, but his true form was hidden underneath a dark cloak. Stories of him and the Morgul blade he possessed were told as bedtime stories to frighten children into good behavior even though many doubted his existence and referred to him as the stuff of myth and legend.

It worked in their interests however, because the less people believed, the less guarded they were and more likely for the Nine to gain dominion for their master.

Aside from the pounding of the horses' hooves on the ground and heavy pant of the horses as they raised across the plains, all was silent.

As silent as death.

They had been summoned by their Master on a great errand. An errand that was as near in quality to the priority of finding the One Ring.

However, only the Witch King knew of how truly important the deep errand was. As soon as he had received word from one of the Nine, of a great power traversing the land unchecked, he knew it was something that needed looking into. For if this power source was received by the elves, it could mean the war.

Therefore it was crucial that they be found. Unfortunately, all the wraith had to go one were the memories of the past.

It angered him that the children of Men were blessed with such power and that they had not the faintest notion of how to use it.

The children, for they were in his mind children, too young to have seen the winters he had, must be found and bent to the will of the master. They were too powerful to be overlooked. And if they were successful, not only would they be rewarded by their Master, but the war may be won and Arda subdued all the swifter.

In his mind's eye, the Witch King recalled their faces.

A young woman with curly brown hair in a red cloak and a young man with pale hair in dark garments. A pair being driven across Rohan in a wizened farmer's cart.

These were the objects of their fixation, and these were the objects that would bring about the doom of Middle Earth.

Ω

After some time, Hermione and Draco began to hunger, so they found a grassy hill that was higher than the rest so that they could see out across the distant plain of Rohan and even further still to the Misty Mountains even farther off.

Hermione unwrapped the brown parcel that Thengal had given them, passed the bread to Draco and broke off a piece of the wedge of cheese for herself.

They ate quietly, sharing the food as they did so. It wasn't much, but Hermione was beginning to appreciate the feeling of having food in her stomach and so she vowed that she would never complain about what she was give or waste food again.

The breeze began to pick up and Hermione was glad she had brought there cloaks as she readily returned to the saddle bag strapped to the side of the horse and put it on.

As she did so, she found a brush hiding in the bottom of the bag. Hermione got a sly look on her face before pulling out of the bag and running the brush thusly down the horse's flank.

The dark stallion gave a whinny of indignation but otherwise remained calm. "That feels goof doesn't it old boy?" she murmured.

"I wonder what his names is," Draco mused as he came up beside her to put his cloak back in the saddle bag as it had become warm again. She nearly jumped from the surprise but seemed to do a good job of hiding it as her hand on the brush remained steady.

"Why don't you give him a name?" Hermione asked as she avoided eye contact and continued on to brushing the horse's mane.

"What am I? Five and I've just brought home my first goldfish?" Draco asked in his trademark drawl of a tone. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Oh come on, it's not anyone's here to mock you, well….besides me that is," she said smirking a little.

Draco huffed in exasperation, but walked and stood in front of the animal so he could look it carefully in the eyes.

"This horse is obviously male," he said running his hand down the side of its neck which caused it to nicker softly. "And very well kept, in fact I'm surprised Thengal was able to procure a horse like this given its breeding."

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked.

"Granger, it's very obvious that this is a horse of war. I've only ever seen a few and only when I've made trips to Muggle London."

"When did you make trips to Muggle London?"

"Contrary to popular belief I am not as clueless as the rest of you thought about Muggles and their affaires. But no one else needed to know that."

Hermione was astonished. He just kept surprising her. How many secrets had Draco Malfoy kept while he was at school?

"I think I would call him Felix," Draco said finally, and Hermione glanced up in shock at him.

"Really? Why that name?" Draco shrugged. "I'm not sure, I guess one of the reasons would be after the potion: Felix Felicis, maybe he'll bring us some luck while we're here."

Hermione blinked. Had he just made a joke? She started to smile.

The brunette was beginning to like seeing this side of Draco Malfoy, the side that was less uptight, smiled more and was more willing to associate with people he had once disagreed with. Also, the fact that he was being incredibly civil helped as well. The only thing that made her slightly uneasy was the fact that she wasn't sure how to take this new Draco. They still had the teasing somewhat antagonistic relationship they had had as children, but the rest of it?

That, she didn't really understand, and once again, Hermione Granger didn't like when she didn't understand something.

"Felix….." she murmured as she continued brushing the horse's beautiful black coat until was glossy and supple again. "I like it."

Finally, she put the brush away and moved to look back out over the horizon. The afternoon was getting on and she knew that they would have to leave soon. The day had been absolutely glorious. Calm, quiet and peppered with interesting conversation. She felt like she had seen a different side of Draco Malfoy.

Without even thinking about it, she sat down on the grass folding her legs beneath her and spreading her dress over top of them.

The grassy hill was one of the last few in between the land of the Shire and the far off country of Rohan. Hermione almost felt as if she were looking at a map of a country, but that everything in it was living.

She could see the dark green on the forests as the moved back and forth in the spring wind, as well as the mint and lake green colors of the tall grasses on the plains of Rohan as they waved back and forth in a veritable sea around the tall craggy outcroppings of rock that inhabited every few feet of earth.

Off the distance, she could see the deep sapphire blue tones of what Thengal called, The Misty Mountains. It was a good name for them, seeing as how there was cloud cover on almost every plateau. The tops were covered in snow and for a moment, Hermione wondered how high they went as to become so cold and garner so much snow year round. There were flashes of silver as the light connected with the cold white sheet of winter and the brunette found herself mesmerized as her eyes took in all the many details. The deep green and faded browns as well as the stark silvers and whites of the snow and the royal blues that set the tone of the mountains.

It was all simply breathtaking.

"Enjoying yourself?"

Hermione jumped and nearly let out a small squeak when Draco sat down next to her. She had almost forgotten he was there. He had been very quiet as he tended to Felix that she had almost thought she had been alone for a second.

He sat down next her and the two looked out over the landscape in hushed amazement at its majesty.

"Yes, I think its official….I'm not sure that I want to go home after seeing all this," Hermione said quietly. She could feel Draco looking at her. "Really?"

"Yes, I was thinking about it, and I'm sure I'll change my mind one hundred times within the next few days or however long it takes us to find the elves and see if they know a way to get us home.

But I also have to accept the fact that there might not be a way for them to do that. I'm still not sure how we got here, and we've been studying magic for the past seven years. Granted I'm sure they know more about it then we do, but I need to prepare myself for the possibility that they may not and if that's the case, then we're stuck here. But if we are…..then I'm okay with that."

Draco looked at her incredulously. "You are?" he asked. "But what about Potter and Weasley?"

"What about them? It's not like I would have a choice if the elves aren't able to come up with a way to help us get home. In fact it would be a completely rational idea for me to contemplate the idea of staying here. My parents are dead, am I'm still mourning them, yet somehow here the grief feels more bearable. Harry would be in the spotlight for the next ten years and Ron will want to talk about his and my future together and I really don't think that…." She trailed off in horror, realizing that she had said far too much.

"Your future together?" Draco asked sounding confused, and if she didn't know any better, a little annoyed. She lowered her eyes and nodded, having no idea what would prompt her to say such a thing.

"Ron will want to discuss where we're headed and I wasn't ready for that. So I did the most un-Gryffindor like thing I have ever done. I ran."

The way she spoke betrayed how ashamed she was of the fact but that there was nothing she could do about it as it was already done.

"There's nothing wrong with needing a break Granger," Draco said quietly and his tone surprised her. Was he actually defending what she had done?

"I should have at least told them what I was doing. Harry would've understood. Ron might not have been able to, but Harry would've. It's that damnable temper of his."

"Would you have wanted that? What if they had tried to stop you?" he asked her. She shook her head adamantly. "Harry wouldn't have. "

"And Weasley?"

She paused as she considered his words. Ron no doubt would have thrown a fit, he would have done everything in his power to stop her which would have most likely resulted in tears, angry shouting and threatening to never speak to her again. Ronald Weasley was the most static unmoving person she had ever met and that was one of the reasons she had loved him all those years ago. He was unchanging, steady as a rock, someone she could always depend on for normalcy.

But lately, since he had left her and Harry in the forest that was, she had begun to question whether or not that was still true. Ron had behaved like a coward. He hadn't behaved in the stalwart fierce manner that she had always known and still loved about him. That Ron, the one that she had needed, had vanished when the going got tough.

_Why didn't I realize this before? _She wondered.

Because she was like Ron in some ways. She refused to see the dark sides of people. In her Gryffindor naiveté, she was still of the mind that everyone could be changed. That life was not all black and white. But in some ways, that view worked against her. She had been right that people could change, but not all of those changes would be for the best. And Ron had proven that to her. It was one of the reasons she had lost so much respect for him.

The war had changed people. But while people like Draco, it had changed somewhat for the better, it had also brought out the worst in people like Ron.

_How is this all becoming clear to me now?_ She thought. And again, she answered her own question. Because she was standing outside of the situation looking in. Falling into that portkey had given her some perspective.

"He would have tried to stop me," she whispered finally, suddenly realizing that Draco was still waiting for an answer.

"And why do you think that is?" he asked. She couldn't read his tone, but on the other hand, she wasn't thinking about it much.

"Because he can't handle change, because he would never change himself," she whispered in astonishment as the truth of those words crashed over her like a wave. "Ron would never change, so he wouldn't change for me."

Draco didn't reply to that. She was glad he didn't. The truth had left her trembling slightly. She felt shaken to her core.

A few minutes passed and the silence literally felt heavy. Even her breathing sounded like it carried weight.

"We should get back," Draco said calmly, startling her. "It's getting late."

Hermione nodded mutely and glanced up at the sky. It had changed from azure blue to a light burgundy and she could scarcely believe that they had been out all day. He held out his hand and she took it wordlessly, getting to her feet.

Draco helped her back onto Felix before mounting the horse behind her. He reached around her and took hold of the reins before turning the midnight black horse around and heading back to Bree.

Hermione had a lot to think about.

Ω

The ride back to Bree was silent.

Draco kept Felix in a brisk walk, but he didn't race the horse as he had done previously. He wanted to make sure that they were back in time before the gates closed, but neither of the two riders felt like racing.

Hermione was silent and the blonde felt it. He hoped he hadn't pushed her to talk too much, but she had learned a lot about him in the past three days since they had been there. More he would have ever let her if they had been back at school. But there wasn't anything to hide here. The shackles and commitments of his old life didn't exist. His father wasn't there to chastise him for associating with a Muggleborn, and he could care less what Lucius thought at this point.

There was no one to hold him back anymore. No reputation to uphold, no mannerisms to hold on to.

And it was such a relief.

To sit here, doing a Muggle activity that he had always loved and to not have to hear the long drawn out speeches from his father about how he was a Malfoy and above such things, was a sweet victory as far as he was concerned.

In fact, the whole bloody day had been nice. Good food, though it had been small, good conversation though sometimes, it had been a little awkward, good, or rather amazing scenery and he couldn't find fault in anything with regards to that.

Hermione was quiet, but it was the kind of quiet that conveyed deep thinking and Draco was sure that he had a lot to think about as well.

He had never like the Weasel and there were many times throughout their duration at Hogwarts when he had thought she deserved better. Not that that meant he had thought that better meant him, but there was a time very briefly when he had thought so.

It was just before the Yule Ball when everyone was about to come downstairs. Weasley had been screaming at her because she had accepted a date with Krum. Something about her fraternizing with the enemy, which left Granger crying on the stairs. He had been hiding in the shadows trying to escape from Pansy and had seen everything. And even he felt a little annoyed on behalf of the brunette witch, who he fully admitted to himself had looked stunning.

It was supposed to be one of the best nights of her life at Hogwarts for her and yet the Weasel had seen fit to ruin it because of jealousy. Draco had just been about to step out of the shadows and say something when Pansy had come around the corner, seen him and he had to beat feet in the opposite direction, opportunity lost.

He was so lost in thought that he barely noticed when Felix started to pass through the farms just outside of Bree again. As they neared the gates, he was relieved to find them still open accepting visitors and traders.

The blonde spurred Felix into a brisk trot and guided him through the gates and down the street of Bree they had traversed the previous night. They both had to look carefully as they were still unfamiliar with the town. Thankfully though, the prancing pony was hard to miss and Draco pulled Felix to a stop right next to Thengal's cart which was now empty.

"He must have had a good with his vendors," Draco mused as he got down from the horse. He held out his hand and helped Hermione down, but as she made to let her foot out of the stirrup, she stumbled slightly and he had to catch her around the waist to make sure that she didn't fall.

At this point, they were eye level, silver blue eyes staring into gold brown ones. Hermione licked her lips, mouth suddenly dry.

"You should be more careful Granger," Draco whispered like they were the only ones around. "Falling wouldn't be a good idea right now."

Despite herself, she flinched, trying to discern whether his words had a double meaning. But before she could, the moment was gone as he had straightened up and let go of her. He then turned away to retie Felix to the post next to the farmer's cart.

"Come on," he said without looking at her, "Thengal's probably waiting for us." She nodded and followed him into the inn which was exactly like last night, nearly packed to bursting. Raucous laughter could be heard from the counter where the drinks were prepared and Hermione and Draco took pains to keep away from that area while also looking around for their farmer friend.

A few seconds later they found him, seated in the same spot he had sat in last night and this morning, three plates of food on the table, steam rising and curling in the air, illuminated by the firelight.

Hermione could have kissed Thengal because as soon as she saw the food, her stomach growled. She hadn't realized just how hungry she was until she saw the fare and it reminded her to be thankful for everything that she was getting from here on out.

She and Draco hurried over and slid into the seat across from the wizened farmer after greeting him with a smile. He grinned back at them.

"I was wondering where the two of you were going to show up. I hope the food isn't too cold. Did my horse behave himself?"

The blonde and the brunette exchanged glances before picking up their forks and digging in. The meal was relatively similar to the previous nights but no less hearty.

Hermione dipped a spoon into her soup and took a tentative sip. She wasn't surprised to find that the thick mixture was delicious. Large chunks of potato, meat, herbs and spices as well as tomatoes were floating around in the light brown liquid. It almost looked like the soup the house elves made at school which made Hermione smile with nostalgia.

"How far did the two of you go today?" Thengal asked as he tucked into his own modest meal. Hermione bit her lip and was very thankful when Draco spoke up.

"We only travelled a few hours south of Bree. It was just back the way we came a bit, not too far though. We didn't want to run into any unsavory characters. But there was a view of Rohan that I wanted Hermione to see." He said all of this without blinking an eyelash.

Merlin, the brunette wanted his talent for smooth talking. Was he ever a Slytherin through and through!

"Do you enjoy it lass?" Thengal asked turning to her.

"A little too much," she muttered and then realized with horror what she had said aloud, because she blinked and cleared her throat hurrying to cover it up. "Uh, what I mean is, yes it all very beautiful. I almost didn't want to come back." She stared down at her hands, hoping against hope that Draco would forget what she had said.

"Ah well, the two of you are young and the weariness has not started to creep into your bones as it has mine, enjoy it while you're still able to run and leave your home on a whim."

His tone was cheerful, but his eyes held curious sorrow that saddened Hermione. It had only been three days but she had become decidedly fond of the farmer. She hoped against hope that there would be a time when she would see him again. He had been nothing but kind and generous and she wished for his happiness.

Unfortunately, the wish for happiness for anyone was about to be interrupted.

All of a sudden, the doors to the Prancing Pony burst open and a man utterly disheveled in appearance flew in.

His brown hair was matted and tossed about his face like a chef had gotten too heavy handed with his salad. His dark eyes were so wide, Hermione could barely see the tan of his eye lids. His clothes were rumpled and his chest was heaving in and out as if he had just run a great distance at a high speed. It was a few seconds before he was able to speak and when he did, Hermione felt her blood run cold.

"He's seen them! Harin the watchman has seen them! Their on their way! Flee, flee lest they find you!" The entire inn went dead silent at his words.

The barman who Hermione had later learned from Thengal was Tom, hurried out from behind the counter wiping his hands on a cloth and laid his hand on the shoulder of the man who looked as if he was about to be hysterical.

"Now just calm now Eoman, what is this all about?" he asked. "Hold your devilish noise, who is coming?"

"The Riders!" Eoman screeched. Instantly, the room seemed to grow cold and the flames of the fire flickered and almost went out. There were a few gasps from the patrons and someone in the corner even let out a small shriek

"Harin saw them from afar. They're coming this way, and they will not be stopped! Eoman screamed.

And with that, the inn of the Prancing Pony erupted into utter chaos. Hermione grabbed Draco's hand, not even caring what she was doing, not even surprised that he had squeezed it tightly, almost into a death grip.

What was surprising was the fact that unlike before, Thengal seemed to be completely calm. His manner was urgent as he pushed his empty plate aside, but not frantic like she would have thought.

"Lass, I would recommend you running to fetch your things from the room, and once you are finished, meet me and your husband downstairs, we need to leave. Now."

Hermione didn't have to be told twice. She got up and practically raced for the stairs, going as fast as her long skirts would allow and mounted them in twos.

When she reached her and Draco's room, she almost broke down the door, breath coming in gasps as she flew about, shoving their few meagre possessions into the sack of clothes that Thengal had given them. Her dagger was still strapped to her waist, and after drawing the knot on the top of the sack tight, she turned to hurry from the room.

The whole process had taken no more then twenty seconds, but Hermione was fearful that every miniscule moment in time would cost them.

She dashed down the stairs like a frightened deer and nearly plowed into Draco who was pacing at the bottom of them. He had obviously been waiting for her, because a look of veritable relief crossed his handsome face. There was no other expression other than complete unreadability. His face was as hard as granite. She noticed that the sword that the farmer had given him was strapped to his waist.

Hermione also noticed that the inn was even more of a chaos then it had been earlier. It was half empty by this time as many of the patrons had fled and the rest that remained were hard pressed to find spots to hide.

"Where's Thengal?" the brunette asked in a hushed whisper. Her pretend husband reached down and took her hand.

"He's outside getting the horses ready. We leave in a few minutes."

The words had no sooner left the blonde's mouth when there was a terrified whinny from one of the horses and the voice of Thengal could be heard as plain as day. He sounded terrified.

"What do you want?" There was a harsh hissing sound.

"No I don't know what you're talking about, I don't know where those two are!" Hermione and Draco stiffened. They were right on the inside of the door and could hear everything.

All of a sudden there was the harsh scrape of metal. A sword being drawn from its sheath. Hermione's face went white. She and Draco took a step toward the door.

"Wait…..what are you doing-"

And then Hermione heard a sound she had hoped to never hear again. It was a dull wet thump…..the sound of a body falling to the ground. A sound she had become altogether too accustomed to hearing.

A strangled sob emanated from her throat and wordlessly, Draco wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close to him and away from the door. Just behind the post of where it connected to the wall. She buried her face in his chest, hot tears wetting his shirt, and she tried to keep herself quiet.

Just then, there was another terrifying sound. It was the sound of the door being thrown up and the sound harsh footsteps clanging against the wood. Immediately the room became cold and the untended fire went out altogether.

A tall figure shrouded in black stepped into the room, a naked sword in its hands, and half of the blade was coated in slick red blood. But this time there were more of them, this time, Hermione counted nine.

Some went up the stairs to the second floor, some went out the door to back behind the inn. But on stayed in the room.

Immediately and without making a sound, Draco pulled Hermione down onto the floor and waved his hand over the two of them.

She was too afraid to wonder what he was doing. But the moment he did so, the Black Rider turned in them as if he had seen Draco move.

Hermione felt her breath hitch and the only thing she was conscious of was the strength of Draco's arm around her and the oncoming form of the most terrifying Grim Reaper she had ever seen.

It stopped right in front of them and to her horror reached its hand down toward her face as if it sensed her presence. However, for some strange reason it seemed not to see them and she couldn't help but wonder if it was something that Draco had done. Suddenly the feeling she had felt the day before, came upon her. The feeling of heavy lethargy. She felt her eyelids begin to droop and her face get hot. Her limbs grew heavy and her breathing slowed.

The thing was literally putting her to sleep with its presence and she had no idea why. All she was conscious of was a heavy blackness slowly descending around her.

But then just as before, it happened. Draco, sensing what was happing, seized one of the pans that had fallen to the floor by the counter and flung it away from him to get the attention of the Rider.

The blessing of Merlin must have been on the both of them because the Rider jerked his head up and flew in that direction. As soon as the Rider was distracted, Hermione felt the heaviness drop off of her limbs.

Immediately Draco pulled Hermione to her feet and yanked her out the door. They had maybe a minute before those inside discovered the ruse and came after them.

They hurried outside, but screeched to a halt when Hermione saw the body of Thengal lying by his cart. There was a mortal wound in his stomach and his breathing was shallow.

Hermione threw herself down next to him and Draco slowly knelt, looking around carefully. All was quiet for now, but not for long.

"Thengal….please….please lie still, you're going to be fine," Hermione said in a choking whisper. Draco swallowed hard. This was not the way he had envisioned anything happening.

The farmer, though in great pain, managed to pat her hand and give a choking chuckle, even as the cheerful twinkle was fading from his eyes.

"Lass….I told you….I knew I didn't have much time left. And…..and I would rather have spent it in the….the service of another…..then any other way. Leave me….to, to my fate. I bear no grudge. I did what I did wholeheartedly."

Hermione felt hot tears spilling down her cheeks, and she didn't even bother to wipe them away. She had only known this farmer for three days and he had become very dear to her heart. He would tell his stories no longer.

Thengal turned away and faced the blonde across from her. Draco's face was stormy and so hard she could have knocked a rock against it and the rock would have broken.

"You…you take care of her….you hear me? A lady like, like her…..doesn't come along…..every generation. You, you protect her with everything….you have." Draco nodded and swallowed hard again.

And then Thengal laid his head back on the ground and Hermione had to lean her head closer so as to hear his last words.

"Let not all come to darkness."

And then he breathed his last.

Hermione let out a quiet sob. But the screech of metal grating against metal from inside the inn overpowered her and instantly Draco shot up.

"Come on Hermione," he said pulling her to her feet. She tried to resist but her heart wasn't in it. The brunette felt numb. "We can't just leave him here."

Draco didn't answer and seized Felix's reins, the horse was thankfully still saddled. He swung himself atop the black beast and put his hand down for Hermione so she could do the same.

Once they were both in the saddle, Draco pulled hard on the reins and the two of them thundered down the street, out the gates which lay haphazardly on the ground. The great doors had been knocked down by the Riders.

It was only after they were out of Bree, having left the screams of the Riders behind, did Hermione allow herself to weep.

She wept because they were alone again. She wept because what little she had had was gone. She wept for herself and Draco because it was once again up to them to survive. And lastly, and her grief was greatest here, she wept for a farmer, whose only crime had been his bravery and his generous spirit, which were now gone.

And so, it was with a heavy heart, that the witch and wizard rode away from Bree, and into the night.

Ω

**Hey Guys, so I apologize for the long wait between updates. I try as hard as I can, but there are times when life just drags me off my computer and say: you will do other things now. Here's chapter 5 of Draco and Hermione's Middle Earth adventures. As promised, here is where the action begins to pick up and will continue for the nest little bit. Please tell me what you think and I will try to have chapter 6 out soon. Until next time...happy reading everyone!**


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter 6: Weathertop

They kept on all night, not that Hermione would know. The darkness seemed to pass in a haze of tears and grief. She kept her arms locked around Draco's waist, cheek pressed to his back, both for comfort and so she could stay firmly on the horse.

Her sobs had subsided, but every so often, her tears would once more leak out from under her eye lids, causing her vision to blur and her throat to clog up.

Finally, she closed her eyes and stopped trying to see anything. It was useless really. All she could make out in the darkness were the silhouettes of trees and the sound of rocks beneath the hooves of Felix as they rode.

Draco said nothing, his muscles were tight and clenched, she could feel how rigid his form was, and that either meant that he was trying to keep his grief in by wearing an expressionless mask or that he was burning with rage.

It was most likely both.

As the sky began to light however and change to a dull grey, Hermione lifted her head from where it had been rested against the blonde's back and flinched when she felt her muscles scream in protest.

The sky was turning from coal to ash and one by one, the stars had begun to fade. The sun wasn't shining which was very appropriate to how Hermione felt. It appeared as if it might rain later, but she didn't care.

In her mind, she was still holding Thengal's hand and weeping as the old farmer faded. Her eyes began to blur again and she squeezed them shut, shaking her head rapidly as if to knock loose the grief.

Once she opened her eyes again, she noticed that they were up into hill country. Beautiful craggy rock faces jutted out on the hills high ahead of them and below them were a series of small green valleys dotted with trees. In the grey light of the early morning, the green looked more mint and pale. The trees were spaced about five to ten feet apart, roots sticking out from the ground, large rocks scattered about, and thick emerald moss covering them.

Far away in the distance, Hermione could see the smoke rising from Bree. Absently, she hoped that the villagers had found shelter from the Riders.

"Do you think we got away?" she asked absently. Draco paused for a long time before answering.

"I think so, I haven't heard anyone behind us. We would hear them if they were." Hermione nearly flinched at the sound of his voice. It was rough and hard, whether from anger or grief she didn't know, probably a combination of the two.

"I think I saw a stream up ahead. There should be some form of cover, whether it be trees or rocks there. We can rest and Felix could get some water. We've been riding all night."

Hermione nodded. They could afford to take some rest. Her eyes burned from unshed tears and the exhaustion of riding for the last twelve hours. Lying down and sleeping sounded good, even if it was on the hard ground.

"Alright," she conceded.

Sure enough about ten minutes later, a silvery quivering ribbon came into view. It was a small stream, simply trickling over the rocks and stones before it. It tapered off down the hills south from where the witch and the wizard had come from through the pale green trees and around rocks and plants.

Draco pulled Felix to a stop and Hermione swung herself out of the saddle and onto the ground. Draco dismounted a second later, and adjusted the saddle bags tied to the side of the horse.

Hermione walked around front and pressed her forehead against Felix's face, eyes shut tightly. "Thank you," she whispered. The horse nickered softly and blew the hair from her face, as if comforting her in her grief.

Draco came around to the front where she was standing, holding onto Felix's lead.

"Come on," he said quietly. "Let's make sure that no one can find us."

Pulling on the horse's rope, he led Felix and Hermione down by the water's edge. As they neared it, Hermione saw that the river was almost completely covered over with tall grasses and thick rushes which would provide excellent cover. They were high and blocked almost everything from view.

It was a perfect place to seek rest.

Draco carefully led Felix down the bank where there was more room for the horse to walk, followed by Hermione and then brought the horse around so it was directly on the bank of the river. He tied Felix's reins to one of the tree roots that was protruding over the river bank and sat down tiredly on one of the rocks beside the root.

Hermione, sensing his grief sat down next to him and placed a gentle hand on his shoulder.

"There was nothing we could have done, they would have killed us," she murmured softly, a whisper full of sorrow. After a moment had passed, Draco raised his head and looked at her, his eyes were blazing silver light.

"They wouldn't have," he whispered hoarsely. Hermione frowned. "How do you know that?" she asked. Draco licked his lips.

"Because I heard what the Nazgul said."

Hermione froze, she had never heard Draco call them by the name Middle Earth had given them. She had a feeling he was about to tell her something very sinister. The blonde turned to her and his expression was cold as ice.

"Do you remember when we were stopped by that one on the road three days ago?" He asked. She nodded, afraid to say anything.

"Do…..you remember if it said anything to you?" he asked hesitantly. Hermione was about to shake her head, but then she felt her blood run cold. In the back of her mind, she heard a cold grating whisper, a sound that inhabited her nightmares.

"He said…..he said…."

"It is not him who I have come for," Draco finished in a voice so low, she could hardly hear him.

"Yes," she whispered. "But what does it mean?" Draco stared up at her, eyes hollow and sad from the death of Thengal.

"It means that they're after us. And that they won't stop until we're found."

Ω

They remained by the stream for a number of hours. Hermione had laid Draco's cloak on the ground and ordered him to lie down and rest. He did so without much argument. It was too risky to travel in the daytime and from their vantage point they could see for miles around.

Hermione volunteered to keep watch as she could see everything from the grove of trees just outside of the river bank.

There was a small bridge which granted them access over the river, so that made traveling easier.

As soon as Draco was asleep, Hermione hitched up her long skirts and hurried up the side of the river bank so that she could keep watch on the lower hills by the grove of trees.

The trees stood on the very edge of the hill from which there was a steep precipice below. A fall down there and one could very well break their neck. Below her were the roots of trees and sharp rocks that screamed of grim consequences if she were to fall. She could see everything from where they were…..even the smoke rising from Bree.

Hermione stayed in the shadows and tucked her long hair into her dark red hood of her Gryffindor cloak. It was warm and she was quite thankful for it. It was also long so it stopped mid-calf ensuring that her legs were warm as well.

The brunette sat down on a rock, all of a sudden the fatigue and the fear of the previous night catching up with her. She wanted to weep some more, but she felt dry, devoid of any tears. She simply couldn't cry any more.

Instead, another emotion was rapidly replacing the first. Anger. Rage was pouring like hot poison through her blood. It wasn't fair, Thengal had deserved nothing of what had happened to him. His only crime had been his kindness to them. In some ways, she wished she had never met him if only to ensure that he had been safe.

_It's not fair!_ Hermione wanted to scream. _Draco and I just got out of a war and now we have Black Riders after us! I'm still not even sure I know what they are, and they killed the only person who has been kind to us this whole while. Where is the justice?!_

As she went on a mental rant, a few tears that had yet to be spilled wet her cheeks and dropped onto the rocky ground at her feet.

How could they have just gone from one battlefield to another? Maybe staying here wasn't such a good idea. After all, at least at home the fighting was over.

_Is it really though?_ She wondered. Voldemort's death eaters were still at large. Only the dark lord and Bellatrix had been killed. Greyback, Dolohov, the Carrows, all of them were still free and on the run. And all of them would no doubt bear a grudge against the Golden Trio for overthrowing their master.

Was it really any safer at home then it was here?

Hermione shook the thoughts away. Her head was starting to hurt, but that could possibly have been from the fact that she had just rode twelve hours on the back of a horse.

She looked out over the landscape, and upon seeing nothing, she turned and headed back down the side of the river bank to check on Draco.

He hadn't moved from the spot she had left him in. He was curled up on his side, face utterly expressionless, but his lips were turned down and brow furrowed ever so slightly in the telltale sign that was grief.

Hermione swallowed the sudden tears that were rising in her throat and did her best to look at anything else to serve as a distraction.

Her gaze caught the sight of the two saddlebags that were tied to Felix. The horse was kneeling down, head resting on its crossed hooves. Felix raised his head when she came near, but she rubbed his neck and slowly he lay back down again.

Calmly, Hermione moved around to his side and untied the bag from its strap around the saddle. She slowly reached inside and wanted to cry when she felt the small money pouches Thengal had given them earlier. That would take care of them for a while at least. She dug deeper and came up with a pouch that was similar to the one they had eaten for lunch the other day.

That might last them for a day or so if they were to ration it, but if they were to stay out in the wilderness any longer, it might prove that they would have to begin hunting. As much as Hermione was loath to kill animals, this was about survival. She would do what she had to do.

If she had paid more attention to her thought processes in that moment, she would have realized that her line of thinking was exactly the same as when she, Harry and Ron had been on the run. She was in the exact same position now. Except she was running from servants of a Dark Lord who would have outclassed Voldemort in a heartbeat.

The thought made her shudder, but it was the truth and if there was one thing that Hermione had never done it was delude herself into thinking that things would be okay when nothing was certain.

Some things were certain however. The fact that she was alive and had her health. The fact that she was with someone that she was beginning to trust as much as she had trusted Harry or Ron, and the fact that like it or not, her life had taken a sudden and abrupt turn that was still causing her head to spin.

She closed the bags and swiftly retied them to Felix's saddle. Once she had done so, Hermione went and sat down on a rock next to the sleeping Draco.

His face was placid and expressionless in dreams. She hoped he hadn't had any nightmares like he had had the day before.

The memory of his strangled cry had startled her awake and she had lain there under the blankets on the bed at the inn of the Prancing Pony, wondering if she should speak up when he had turned to her and drawn near, a tortured expression on his handsome face.

Then she had shut her eyes, steadied her breathing and said nothing. She had felt him take hold of her hand and gently draw it out from under the cover of the sheets. It took all of her will not to flinch when she had felt him rub his thumb over the scar on her arm.

She hadn't allowed anyone else to see it much less touch it. She wasn't even sure if Harry and Ron knew about it. It was a painful physical reminder that to some in the wizarding world, she would never be enough.

But that didn't matter anymore, at least not here. It hadn't mattered to Thengal, and it didn't matter to Draco. He was no longer the vain, cruel, self-centered egotistical boy he had once been. As a matter of fact when their fourth year had rolled around, he had been strangely quiet with regards to her. He had still taunted Ron and Harry, but her, he didn't. She hadn't thought much about it at the time, as she was so preoccupied trying to help Harry in the Tri-Wizard Tournament, but now the memory struck her as odd.

She glanced down at the blonde and without thinking, reached out and slowly ran her hand through his pale hair. He shifted slightly and for a moment she feared he would waken. After a moment though, he grew still once more and her anxiety abated.

Hermione couldn't think of him as the same person before. It was like he had undergone permanent transfiguration in every aspect of himself excluding physicality. Because the man lying here next to her, the man who had saved her twice within the last forty eight hours, was someone she didn't recognize.

Reaching over, she gently ran her hand across his hair before leaning down quietly and pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

"Thank you," she whispered, voice hollow.

It was one of the most heartfelt exclamations of gratitude she had ever uttered, but the fact that she was saying it to her sworn childhood enemy made it no less true.

It suddenly occurred to her the memory of what he had done to save her those two times. One time he had used their wands, but the other time, he had said whatever spell he used wandlessly and wordlessly. She knew he had been a match for her at school, but she had no idea he had become that powerful. Perhaps that was why he had changed sides during the last battle.

No matter, she made a mental note to remind herself to ask him when he woke.

Hermione tucked her cloak more firmly about herself so as to block out the cold chill of the early morning. Her stomach growled in protest and she looked around for something to distract herself from her hunger. The river still tricked away a few feet away from her and the sound of rushing water had always calmed her restless nerves, so she closed her eyes and employed a technique that had always helped her when she had been stressed about her exams at school.

She closed her eyes, and took several deep breaths that went all the way to the pit of her stomach. Then she did everything in her power to focus on nothing but the sound of the water trickling over the rocks at her feet.

After a few minutes, Hermione achieved success when she felt her heart beat slow, her clenched muscles uncoil, her shoulders drop and her tightly folded hands fall to her sides. She kept her eyes closed so as to block out the distractions. There was a warm blackness behind her eyes that helped keep out the pain of the world, but it was also something she knew wouldn't keep her from suffering.

Closing your eyes was only helpful when one was asleep or trying to calm one's nerves like she was doing. It was helpful at times, but it also prevented one from seeing just how beautiful life truly was.

_And just what is beautiful about life right now?_ Her sad inner voice asked, and before she was even conscious of where it came from, a newer stronger voice, a voice that sounded very much like the strong Hermione Granger she remembered from the Battle of Hogwarts, spoke up.

_How about the fact that you are still breathing, have use of your magic, are not alone and that you have shelter?  
><em> She knew these were all things no matter how small that she should be grateful for. They may not seem extravagant but they were very fundamental.  
>Hermione knew one of the greatest things she had was someone protecting her. In her mind that was something worth all the galleons in Gringotts. But she also knew that when the time came, she would also how to protect him as well. Strangely though, the thought didn't scare her like it would have earlier.<br>She had had Harry's back in the war, she would do the same for Draco. Thengal's words hadn't been meant just for him.  
>She would always remember the farmer's kindness to them and treasure it in her heart. It was no less then he deserved. Her throat clogged up with emotion and she had to take a minute to swallow it down again.<br>Hermione and Draco were fugitives except they had committed no crime, and being on the run was something she knew how to do.  
>Casually, she unsheathed the dagger at her waist and examined it. It was a simple piece. The blade was silver and polished until it gleamed. The hilt was wrapped in dark red leather and the edges of the cross guard had been tipped with gold.<br>It was then Gryffindor colors, she realized with amusement. Now wasn't that ironic?  
>The irony increased when she took a closer look at Draco's sword which was lying beside him while he slept. The sheath was a dark green material and the cross guard was tipped with silver. The hilt was also dark green and the pommel was rounded and covered in silver.<br>Hermione wondered where on earth Thengal had found these weapons, she couldn't see him simply trading for them in one of the markets around here. They looked expensive and would likely have cost a pretty penny. He hadn't struck her as the kind of man to be so given to obtaining extravagant items. He must have chanced upon them during his travels, or perhaps they had been gifts.  
>She remembered looking around the inn and seeing swords at the waist of almost every man. It seemed highly uncommon not to have one here, and despite having their wands, she was glad to be in possession of some. She still didn't know the exact extent of the magic.<br>Suddenly, Hermione frowned. She supposed that now was as good a time as any to find out.  
>"Accio saddlebag," she said. In an instant the parcel had freed itself from the saddle and had flown into her outstretched hand.<br>It was only a second later when she glanced down into the bag that she realized she hadn't been using her wand. She had buried it in the saddlebag in her haste to leave the inn earlier.  
>Had she just used magic wandlessly? It was the only explanation that made sense. But how was that possible? She had never been able to use wandless magic before.<br>But the more she thought about it, the more she realized she was feeling the magic in this place. Middle Earth was a fantastical place, full of magic and mystery. It was highly possible that she had been able to perform wandless magic because of the sheer amount of magic that was in the air. She could practically feel it buzzing in her veins.  
>Before she could be sure though, she had to test it and ascertain the truth. Placing the bag next to her she got to her feet and caught sight of a particularly pretty looking rock in the middle of the stream. Hermione took a deep breath, pointed at the stone with just her hand and said in a clear voice: "Accio Rock."<br>There was a splash as the stone whizzed from the stream and into her hand. Hermione reeled back a half step in shock. She couldn't believe it. It usually took mature wizards decades to even perform the simplest task wandlessly and even then it never performed exactly what was asked of it.  
>Two emotions hit Hermione then. One was nervousness. If she could perform wandless magic, then maybe Draco could too. It would certainly explain what he had done to hide the two of them back at the inn. The idea made her a little anxious because she didn't know what to expect. Apparating obviously didn't work because you didn't need your wand for that. The second feeling was one of giddiness.<br>For the next hour or two, Hermione practiced her wandless magic. Each time she did and fruitful results were achieved, her mood improved. So by the time Draco woke again, she was smiling.  
>"What's got you in such a good mood?" He asked as he sat up from where he was lying. He yawned and stretched, wincing as he felt his muscles protest.<br>Hermione turned to him and he was a little surprised to see that her smile was genuine, in fact she looked almost giddy.  
>"I have made the most incredible discovery," she said and Draco had to fight the urge to make a sarcastic comment like he would have years ago.<br>"Oh really? And what would that be?" He winced when he felt the question pass from his lips because when Hermione had discovered something and was eager to share it with someone else, she automatically went into professor mode.

She didn't disappoint.

"Okay, so watch this."

She unstrapped her dagger from her waist and handed it to him. The blonde took it, looking more and more confused by the second.

"Uh, Granger, what are you doing?"

"Just hold on."

Hermione pulled her wand from the bag and carefully set it down on the ground by her feet, all the while making sure he could see what she was doing. Finally, she straightened up

"Okay, so now you can see I am not holding my wand. Now watch carefully."

Without mincing words anymore, she pointed at her dagger which was in Draco's hand and said clearly and precisely: "Accio dagger."

A second after she had said the words, the weapon flew out of the blonde's fist and into her outstretched hand.

Draco blinked, staring at his empty fist in disbelief. "How the hell did you do that?" he asked incredulously.

Hermione was grinning like a Cheshire cat. "I did it on accident. While you were still asleep, I forgot that I wasn't holding onto my wand and summoned one of the saddle bags. It came to me and it was only when I looked through it and found my wand in the bottom of the bag that I realized what I had done.

I wanted to test it first though, so I summoned one of the stones in the dream with the same results. It worked. And all this time that you've been asleep I've been practicing with it. I can summon anything I want."

Draco looked strangely impressed. Hermione was getting more and more excited by the second.

"Do you know what this means?" Hermione asked. "We can use magic wandlessly!" Draco smirked. "Yes, I'm well aware of what the words wandless magic entail Granger."

She rolled her eyes. "Shut up you prat, that's not what I meant. Get up let's see if you can do it too!"

Slowly Draco got to his feet. His stance was lazy, and she knew he was just doing it to annoy her, as she was about to burst with excitement.

He pointed at one of the larger stones across the river and said: "Accio stone."

Immediately, the rock flew from its position in the damp creek bed, zipped across the river and landed smack in the middle of his palm. He blinked, feeling shocked that he had been able to do it.

Hermione let out an excited squeal and threw her arms around his neck. He stiffened up for a second before wrapping his arms around her waist.

After a moment though, both realized what they were doing and jumped away from the other as if they had been shocked. Hermione's cheeks were red and Draco was staring hard at the ground as if trying to bore a hole into it.

Hermione cleared her throat. "So now that we know that we can use wandless magic that will make things a little easier."

Draco nodded. "It'll be useful if something were to happen. Merlin forbid, our wands break and we're left with nothing. It's nice to know that we'll still have magic. By the way, why do you think we can?"

"Can what?"

"Use wandless magic?"

Hermione bit the edge of her lip as she thought about that. "I'm not entirely sure, there were times when I could to little bits of magic without my wand back home, but that was only if I was concentrating very hard and I was always really tired after."

Draco nodded. "Same with me."

"I honestly think that it has something to do with the air in this place. The whole atmosphere reeks of magic. And we're already magic users, so the ozone here just intensifies our abilities. I could feel it the moment we got out of the pool in Fangorn Forest. Do you remember when I touched the trunk of one of the trees? I could practically feel the magic vibrating underneath my palm."

The blonde nodded again. "I guess that would also explain why I was able to do what I did back in Bree when the Riders came."

Hermione folded her arms across her chest and looked at him carefully. "Yes, now that I think of it, what exactly was that?" she asked. "You didn't have your wand in your hand and come to think of it, you didn't say anything either. All you did was wave your hand and it was like instantly the Rider couldn't see us."

Draco stared at the ground, for a second he almost looked uncomfortable before he recovered himself.

"I….I don't know. I just remember thinking that he couldn't be allowed to see us and that it was a life or death situation. And the next thing I knew…..we were invisible.'

"So you performed a spell, not only wandlessly, but wordlessly as well?" Hermione asked in amazement. Draco kicked a stone on the ground at his feet. It flew out from under his shoe and landed in the river with a wet plop.

"I guess so," he muttered. "But what in Merlin's name does it mean? And how are we able to do it? I'm not even sure how the environment is advancing our magical abilities and we're talking about things we've never been able to do before. Performing that summoning spell should have drained you and me, but it didn't. Why is that?"

"I really don't know," Hermione replied shaking her head in bewilderment. As pleased as she was that they had progressed to powerful levels that wouldn't have been possible back home, the thought made her a little apprehensive. Was this the reason that the Black Riders were after them? After all, Thengal had said that they were drawn to power…..

She shook her head and glanced back up at her companion. He looked just as pensive as she was. But then his face broke its serious mask with a weary smile.

"Well, if we're going to spend the rest of the day thinking and practicing on this, then I think it's about time we have something to eat, and I also think we need to ration what's in the saddle bags in case we're not near a stream later."

Hermione nodded, but then was further surprised when he sat down on a nearby rock and began to remove his socks and shoes, placing the socks in the shoes and setting them to one side away from the river.

"Er, Malfoy…..just what are you doing?" she asked as she watched him. The blonde stood up and sent her his trademark smirk.

"What does it look like Granger? I'm getting us something to eat."

Ω

What followed next was a hilarious sequence of events that had Hermione in stitches. She was sure that had she not been there to see them with her own eyes, she would never have believed it was possible.

Draco Malfoy had waded into the river, pant legs now rolled up to his knees in search of a fish to catch. It was one thing to stand on the river bank and summon said fish into his hands, but in order to do that, you had to see one first, and that was what he was trying to do.

Hermione stood there, laughing while the blonde stepped carefully into the stream eyes scanning up and down the river for any signs of life.

It was the most ridiculous position she had ever seen him in. Even more so when he and his friends had tried to frighten Harry by posing as the Dementors in third year. He had rolled up his sleeves as he tried to remain dry.

There was a moment of silence, where Hermione seated herself on the rock next to his shoes and socks to watch the show. She wasn't disappointed.

Draco must have seen something because within the first few minutes of him being in the water, he suddenly called out: "Accio fish!"

Sure enough a silvery blue grey oblong shape was flung out of the river and into Draco's outstretched hands. Hermione grinned and was about to applaud his efforts when something that neither of them accounted for happened.

Draco was confident in his abilities to catch the fish, but he hadn't accounted for his ability to keep ahold of it.

Because as you and I both know, fish are wet, slimy, slippery things that are nigh impossible to keep holding on to. Especially if one has just been flung out of the water at your face. And this is exactly what happened.

Draco was so eager to complete the task and get out of the water, which must have been freezing, that he overcompensated with the spell, and sent the fish flying at him faster than he was able to catch it because it hit him right in the face with a wet slap and then flipped its way back into the water again before he could even blink.

Hermione lost it.

Sitting on the rock, she bent over at the waist and went into spasms at the sight. Draco Malfoy was looking the most undignified she had ever seen him, and had been hit in the face with a wet fish. What was even more hilarious was the fact that he was standing there with this blank look on his face, as if he were unable to comprehend what had just happened.

When he did though, he turned back to her with a mock scowl on his face. "Oh yes, laugh it up Granger. I'd like to see you in here doing this."

Hermione folded her arms across her chest and looked at him smugly. "But I wouldn't be in there Malfoy, because I'm a lady and ladies don't get wet."

She wanted to bite her tongue the next second because the blonde got an odd but familiar gleam in his eye.

"So you don't think ladies get wet do you?" All of a sudden he started wading out of the water towards her.

Hermione, seeing the look in his eyes, jumped off the rock and began to back away. "Malfoy, what are you doing?" she asked nervously.

The blonde didn't answer just kept coming toward her, that familiar Malfoy smirk quirking his lips upwards. And in that instant, it was clear what he wanted to do, although she wasn't about to let him.

The brunette let out a squeal and dashed for the water's edge to get away from him. Little did she know that that was exactly what he wanted because he turned and chased her back to the bank and into the river.

Hermione could feel the cool water soaking the hem of her dress and she gave a small shriek.

"Merlin, it's cold!"

"Now you know how I feel!" Draco exclaimed grinning and before she realized what he was doing, he had bent and begun splashing her with the water.

For the next few minutes, they were simply two teenagers trying to outdo the other as they had always done at school. There was no death looming over their heads, no Black Riders and no sad memories. They were simply having fun.

"Alright, alright, stop I surrender!" Hermione said, barely able to speak she was laughing so hard. The hem of her skirt, up to her knees was soaked and Draco didn't look much better. He laughed though.

"You should know by now Granger that I always win."

The blonde flipped his damp hair out of his eyes looking for all the world like a model for Witch Weekly with the way the sun, because it had come out after all, was reflecting off the droplets on his face causing his skin to glow.

She blinked and looked away, recovering herself quickly hoping he hadn't noticed her staring. She glanced down at her hands and then back up at him, taking a deep breath as she tried to focus on what they had been trying to do earlier.

If she had kept her gaze on him long enough she would have seen that he was staring at her too.

"Perhaps we should work together on this one," she suggested and he nodded, looking almost relieved that she had spoken of something else. Hermione squared her shoulders and gathered her thoughts again.

"Alright, so when the next fish comes along, because that one is clearly gone, and you summon it, I'll be ready to levitate it if you should lose your grip. Okay?" Draco rolled his eyes and shook his head, mouth turned up in a smirk.

"Still as bossy as ever, aren't you Granger?" he said. Hermione shook her head. "Do you want to eat or not?" she asked somewhat flippantly.

Draco didn't reply but she caught his smile as he turned once more to face upstream. The two of them fell silent. They didn't have to wait very long for some action.

Within a minute, Draco waved his hand and called out: "Accio fish!"

Just as before, the silver creature flew out of the water and toward Draco's hands and again, he managed to grab hold of it for two seconds before it started to slip away. Just before it dove back into the water, Hermione pointed at it and exclaimed: "Wingardium Leviosa!"

Suddenly the fish, while still wriggling was suspended in midair. Hermione waded over to the writhing creature which was hovering a few inches above the water and snatched it. With that, she turned and waded out of the water.

After muttering a quick drying spell, it still amazing her that she could do it all wandlessly, she found a small rock on the ground that was serve as an adequate weight for the fish so it wouldn't slip back into the water.

Then she turned and headed back into the river to help Draco catch another.

Ω

About an hour later, they were sitting around a small campfire breathing in the scent of frying fish. Hermione's stomach growled and she realized how hungry she was as she hadn't eaten all day.

Draco turned the fish which had been cleaned of their scales and insides on the stick he had found. It wasn't certain whether or not they would be able to find shelter like this again, so he was just going to enjoy it while he could.

Hermione had spread the saddle blanket that was situated beneath Felix's seat onto the ground so they could sit comfortably. The horse was quietly grazing a few yards away, but always in sight of them.

Hermione was lying down on her side, her shoes off to one corner of the blanket, feet tucked beneath the hem of her dark blue dress as she watched the fire and the fish cooking. If they had been at home it would be easy to think that they were simply on a camping trip and settling down for the evening. The sun was beginning to turn the trees to gold as it descended in the sky, the clouds shifting to a beautiful bronze.

It was so quiet. They had adequate cover from the trees and tall rushes that were looming out over the river bank so she was assured of the fact that no one would see them. But the silence made her a little nervous. Things had been calm all day and Hermione felt a little on edge because of it.

Draco turned the two sticks over the fire causing the fish to sizzle and pop. After looking them over carefully, he took them off the top of the wood.

"Are they done?" Hermione asked raising her head up onto her arm. Draco shrugged. "How the hell should I know? I've never cooked over an open flame."

Hermione startled to chuckle. "You mean you've gone camping before?"

"What in Merlin's name is camping?"

And so as they ate their fish off the homemade skewers Hermione had found and peeled the bark off of, the brunette informed the blonde about the ins and outs of camping. Draco knew what a tent was, but he was under the impression that one only stayed in it when one was on the run much like she Harry and Ron had done. He had no idea that people in the Muggle world did it for fun. Much less the fact that it was what they were sort of doing right then

"Merlin, that sounds absolutely dreadful! How did you stand doing it Granger?" he asked when she had finished her rather thorough explanation. Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled. It figured that the Slytherin Prince would have no idea what it was like to rough it. In fact, she was amazed that he had managed to hold up this long.

"It really isn't as bad as it might sound at first," she explained patiently. "I've only done it a few times myself but there are many who do it simply for the fun of adventure."

Draco looked at her as if she had lost her mind. "Who on earth would want to willingly spend their time in the wilderness having to catch and clean their food and live off the land? It's barely tolerable when we have magic. Having to do without it would be unthinkable."

Hermione carefully set her empty kabob stick to one side and eyed the blonde carefully. "Draco have you ever gone one day without using magic?" she asked. The Slytherin scoffed.

"Of course not. What would be the point?" Hermione pursed her lips.

"Well, suppose you were at home and for some inexplicable reason, your wand was snapped, what would you do?"

"I would go to Ollivander's and get another one."

Hermione sighed, he really was incorrigible.

"Suppose you couldn't," she said. "Suppose there were no wandmakers and the one that you had was the only one you could get and it was broken. What would you do?"

"Granger, where are you going with this?" Hermione threw up her hands in exasperation.

"I'm trying to get you to see that life without magic really isn't all that bad. It's a little bit harder because you won't be able to get things with a flick of your wand, but in a way it's good because it prevents you from becoming lazy."

"Oh and you think I'm lazy?" Draco asked, arching one perfectly sculpted pale brow. Hermione winced. She hadn't wanted it to come out sounding like that so she hurried to explain herself.

"No, I do not think that you are lazy. But I do think that maybe you should experience sometime, just for a little while, what life without magic would be like. I had to do it for eleven years before I went to Hogwarts and I turned out fine."

"That's a matter of opinion," Draco muttered, right before Hermione tossed her stick at him. He ducked just in time. _Damn Seeker reflexes, _Hermione thought.

He smirked at her and she rolled her eyes, suddenly taking in the absurdity of the situation of where they were.

If someone had told her a year ago that she would be camping out in the woods with Draco Malfoy, cooking fish over and open flame, rising horses and sleeping on the ground she would have sent them to St. Mungo's thinking them under the Imperious curse.

She picked up the stick she had thrown and tossed it into the fire. All was quiet for the next little while and Hermione spoke up again, wanting to ask the question that had been plaguing her all day.

"So, why do you think those Black Riders seem to be after us?" She asked. A muscle in Draco's cheek jumped. He looked a little uncomfortable with the direction the topic was heading in, but he didn't say anything.

"Do you remember what Thengal…..what Thengal said?" he asked a little uncomfortably, staring into the fire. Hermione bit her lip. Thinking about the farmer and the way he had died less than twenty four hours earlier brought the melancholy feelings rushing back. He had done nothing deserving of death and everything deserving of life and yet he had garnered a fate that was completely unfair.

"He said a lot of things, what part did you mean?" she mumbled quietly. Draco poked at the fire with a nearby stick before clearing his throat and continuing.

"He said that they were drawn to power and maybe that's why they're after us." At this point, Hermione got up and began to pace. "It would make sense, I mean, we're even more powerful here then we were at home, they must know this somehow."

"Yes, but how?" Draco questioned looking a little frustrated. "Thengal died because of us, we owe it to him to at least figure out why these bastards are after us and to stop them."

"Wait a minute," Hermione said pausing mid stride to spear him with a look. "I am not going on some kind of revenge mission. We have no idea what we are up against and the only way we are going to know is by finding the elves and learning all we can about the Black Riders. But right now, we have stay hidden. We can't do anything until we find them and going off on a rampage is not in our best interests."

Draco was quiet for a moment, but he nodded. When the blonde thought of the farmer's unnecessary death, his blood boiled. He had seen enough people die in the war with Voldemort and while he hadn't done any killing, being there to see it happen was quite enough.

"That's very Slytherin like thinking Granger," he drawled.

Hermione stopped pacing and gave him a tense smile. "You said that was what we had to do didn't you? Put aside the lion's skin and adopt a coat of scales? Well then I am practicing my hiss."

She didn't see the amused smirk on the blonde's face as she resumed her pacing. "We need to figure out why the Riders are after us and for the love of god how we will manage to hide ourselves and stay one step ahead of them."

"We need the help of the elves," Draco said suddenly causing her to look up at him in surprise. The former Slytherin got to his feet and strode down towards the river bank hands clasped behind his back.

It was frightening how much he looked like his father in that moment. His tousled hair had grown longer and now curled below his ears in pale golden ringlets.

Draco stopped at the edge of the river bank, selected a smooth flat stone and skipped it across the water where it bounced four times before sinking beneath the surface. He did this twice more while she watched before he said anything.

"We need to find them, they're the only ones who can help us," he said again. Slowly Hermione walked up to him. He must have felt her presence because he turned to look her in the eye. She was surprised to see that he looked utterly calm.

"Very well, how do you propose we find them then, we didn't get a chance to ask Thengal before…..before….." she trailed off and didn't finish. Then she recalled something from the past and her eyes widened.

"We could use the point me spell," she murmured. Draco frowned. "That point me spell?"

Hermione turned away and strode back to the burlap sack Thengal had given them before reaching inside and pulling out her wand. She walked back to the blonde who was watching her curiously.

Carefully she placed it on the ground and muttered the incantation. Immediately the wand began to spin maniacally on the ground. Hermione glanced up at Draco. "What direction did we take to leave Bree?" she asked.

"East," he replied, still staring at the wand. Hermione nodded and glanced back at the ground. The wand had started to slow and finally it stopped in the direction of East where they had been heading.

Hermione nodded satisfied. "So all we need to do is to keep heading east."

Draco folded his arms and looked at her, amused. "Great plan Granger, we know what direction we need to head in, now can you tell me how we are going to find the elven stronghold? We have no idea what it looks like, or even if it would be visible to us. For all we know it could be disguised."

Hermione's shoulders slumped in disappointment. Some semblance of a plan had been finally starting to form, only to be knocked down again.

Seeing her dismay, the hard expression on Draco's face softened just a bit. "Why don't we rest here tonight as it's getting late and figure it out in the morning?"

"You don't want to keep traveling?" Hermione asked in surprise. Draco shook his head and glanced at Felix who was still calmly grazing a few feet away without a care in the world.

"We took a big risk riding as hard as we did last night Granger. Neither of us know this country and it was all too likely that Felix would have stepped in a hole or ditch in the road, fallen and broken his leg. Yes we could have healed him but that would have taken time that we didn't have, what with the Nazgul on our tail. I'd much prefer to travel in daylight where I can see what is going on around me then to creep around in the dark."

Hermione nodded. His points seemed sound.

She bent and picked up a smooth stone that was at her feet and tried to imitate his feat of skipping the stone. Although she had zero success because the minute she tossed the stone in what she thought was the same arc towards the water, it landed and sunk below the ripples with a wet plop.

Hermione frowned, feeling a little frustrated. The shallows of the river were full of flat stones so she bent and seized another, ignoring the amused look on the blonde's face.

She tried again, only to have the same results. The brunette let out a frustrated growl, prompting an amused chuckle out of the blonde standing next to her. As she crouched down to retrieve another stone, determined to not let him best her at something that should be so fundamentally simple, he spoke.

"Granger, you're never going to learn how to skip a stone if you aren't patient enough." Hermione glowered at him. "Oh and I suppose you could teach me, of master of stone and water?"

Draco threw back his pale head and laughed. A real genuine honest laugh that she could count on her hand the number of time she had heard before.

"Yes I could," he replied and before she could come up with another quip, he had wrapped one arm around her waist and taken the hand that was gripping the stone in his other.

Immediately Hermione stiffened up as if a cold wind had just blown. This shouldn't have been that unexpected. After all she had spent more time with him in the last week then she had ever had in the last seven years, and learned far more about him then she had ever thought possible, so why was the sudden contact making her uncomfortable?

It was because it was voluntary.

They weren't putting on a show for anyone, the time for that had passed. Draco was doing this willingly and what was far worse, was that she liked it.

The blonde didn't seem to notice her discomfort because he carefully raised her arm into the same position that his had been in previously and held it there for a few seconds.

"It's all in the wrist, Granger," he said, lips far too close to her ear for what should have been comfortable.

Then suddenly and without warning, he gently drew her arm back and she realized what he was doing. The two of them followed through together, moving in perfect sync and the stone flew from Hermione's hand and hit the water once…twice…..thrice…and a fourth time before it sunk beneath the water.

Hermione felt herself begin to smile, she glanced up at the blonde and saw an almost soft look on his handsome face. It was so out place that it thoroughly surprised her. Especially when his eyes locked on her and she couldn't fathom the look in them.

"I did it," she whispered.

"You did," he replied.

For a moment all they did was look at each other. There were so many things that she wanted to say, her gratitude for his looking out for her, how thankful she was for his friendship, how relieved she was that he was with her and she didn't have to go through the fear of being in another world alone.

But as she opened her mouth to say these things, her Gryffindor courage failed her and all that came out was: "We should probably get some rest. It's getting late."

Draco nodded and it was with reluctance that Hermione stepped away and moved back to where they had placed their meagre supplies.

"Perhaps you should wait on the hill top for a while there the grove of trees are to make sure we aren't being followed," she suggested turning back to face the blonde who was still watching her.

"Okay, but why?" he asked carefully. Hermione gave him a wry smile. "Because I'd clean myself after riding all day and being out in the wilderness and I think I would like some privacy."

His eyes widened in understanding and he nodded again. "Alright but don't take too long."

"I won't."

The blonde strode over to the blanket that had been spread on the ground and retrieved his sword before strapping it to his waist and making his way carefully up the river bank and out of sight.

After he was gone, Hermione let out a sigh of relief that she could finally bathe and perform a normal routine without worrying about Black Riders, wandless magic and where their next meal was going to come from.

She picked up the bag of clothes and headed for the river.

Ω

Draco was a little uneasy as he made his way to the grove of trees that Hermione had indicated and sat down on the large rock beneath the spreading branches. It offered a nice few of the surrounding valleys beneath them and a lovely view of the sun as it was slowly going down.

The blonde took a deep breath let it out slowly. Today had been a bizarre day and he had slept half of it away as he had been so exhausted from riding all night.

He had never done that before and the effort thoroughly drained him. He rubbed his hand across his mouth as he pondered the bizarre events of the day.

Thengal's death had been heavy on his mind for hours and he felt a stab of guilt when he remembered that they had just left the farmer there. He deserved a decent burial with songs and speeches and words of tearful gratitude, not to be left lying in the street like a common criminal who'd been beaten and left for dead.

As he reminisced, the blonde felt the rage pouring through his blood once more. Those Riders would pay for this, he vowed. He would see the day where his friend's death was avenged and he wouldn't go home until his mission was complete.

First though, they needed to find the elves and prepare themselves against their enemies. Draco still had no idea why the Riders were after them, other than the fact that it had something to do with his and Hermione's magical abilities.

And because of that, they had to get to the elves before they were found again. He had seen the effect of what being near one did to Hermione and it worried him.

In the inn, it had almost been like the Rider as slowly putting her to sleep, but had had no idea why or how it was having this effect. All he knew was that whenever he had done something to divert its attention, she had come back to herself.

Nothing had happened as a result of it and Draco wasn't planning on it happening again. But it bothered him. The Riders presence didn't seem to affect him the way it did Hermione and puzzle was sure to bother him for a while.

He wished he had been faster! Maybe if he had been outside of the inn with the farmer instead of inside waiting for Hermione he might have been able to do something.

_Right, and then you and Hermione might have been captured and Thengal would have died anyway, _whispered the voice of self-preservation in the back of his mind.

_You did what anyone would have done and to think that you could have done more is unrealistic and unhealthy, _the voice continued and Draco realized with wry amusement that it sounded a bit like Hermione.

It sure didn't help the feelings of guilt though.

Thengal hadn't even known them and yet he had gone above and beyond what anyone would have expected of him. It was more than Draco had received from some of his school friends that was for sure.

They needed to find the elves and figure out why they were being chased. The Riders had come after them twice now, and Draco had a bad feeling that if they were to be found again out here, lacking in armor and skill, he and Hermione would be in a bad way.

He shivered and shook himself as he considered the notion that it had something to do with their abilities.

Hermione had been right, he was sure it had something to do with the fact that their magic was stronger. Thengal had said that the Nazgul were creatures drawn to power. Which would have explained why as soon as he had disguised himself and the brunette, the Rider had turned on them as if had sensed their presence. Using their magic was like a homing beacon, he realized. It would draw the Riders to them like moths to a flame.

Draco sighed. They would have to spend the next few days or however long it took to reach the elves, without using their magic then.

It still boggled his mind that the two of them were able to wield magic without the use of their wands. The prospect had been something that he had always wanted to do. He had tried and tried to bring it about while at home but he was never able to levitate an object more than a few inches off a table. He had never been able to do what he had done to today and to do it with such ease that it was almost ridiculous.

Absently, he unsheathed the sword from its position at his waist and laid the blade across his knees as he stared at it. It was a simple piece, the chief colors being green and silver, which pleased him to no end as he would always love his house colors.

He hoped that he knew enough sword play to be able to hold his own in a fight. His father had often taken him to fencing tournaments, as it seemed to be the only Muggle activity that Lucius enjoyed, and that was only because wizards from thousands of years ago had done it as well. It was a necessary sport that any gentlemen Muggle or wizard should be engaged in. And so Draco had started sword training by the age of six.

Of course when he had gone to Hogwarts, the whole thing had gone by the wayside as he was more focused on his studies. But every so often, in the middle of the night, the blonde would sneak down to the enormous ballroom in the Malfoy Manor, remove his great grandfather's sword from its place on the mantle above the enormous fire place and spar with a magical opponent. He couldn't do it very often lest someone hear him, but he felt it was the perfect activity for a troubled mind.

But now as he thought about it, those stolen practices didn't seem to be nearly as good as what with where they were right now. He had to learn some technique and learn it quickly before the Nazgul caught up with them.

The blonde stared out over the valleys below them. Middle Earth was certainly a beautiful place, full of magic and mystery, but it also seemed to have its fair share of heartache. Innocent people would die before this was over and he and Hermione reached the elves.

That thought worried him. They knew what direction to head in, but had no idea what the stronghold of the elves looked like. It might very well have been hidden with magic. The thought was frustrating.

He and Hermione had already been through so much since getting here. They had been attacked twice and watched a friend die in front of them. And he was concerned to realize it was something he had been becoming used to.

Ω

Hermione searched through the sack for the thick satiny nightgown she had worn the night before back at the inn. In their haste to leave, she had forgotten to check to see if she had grabbed everything. As long as they had had their wands, she believed that was all they needed, but a thorough checking of the supplies revealed that she had packed more then she had realized.

Finally having found the garment she was looking for, she slipped it over her shoulders and sighed with relief when she felt the cool of the air dissipate. Brushing her hair back, she pulled her cloak about her shoulders.

The sound of footsteps made her whirl around, wand half drawn, but she relaxed when she saw that it was just Draco.

"You didn't see anything?" she asked in reference to his little scouting trip. He shook his head and she relaxed somewhat. "Good."

She sat down on the thick large saddle blanket that had been cushioning the saddle so it didn't press against Felix uncomfortably.

Hermione watched as Draco made his way over to the black beast and pulled one of the brushes from the saddle bag. He slowly began to run the rough bristles down Felix's flank and the horse nickered softly.

The brunette watched as he gave the horse a rare Malfoy smile. When he smiled, she couldn't help but smile too as it was such a rare occurrence. His whole face seemed to light up and his silver blue eyes cleared like a summer sky.

"He's a beautiful horse isn't he?" she murmured, still watching his movements. He nodded but said nothing, the both of them lost in thought.

"Why don't you get some rest Granger?" Draco asked after a moment of silence and Hermione looked up at him in surprised. "I'll keep watch for a while.

"Are you sure?" she asked carefully.

He nodded, "You've been awake all night and all day today, I'm amazed you haven't collapsed yet."

She nodded, now that he had brought it up, sleep was beginning to catch up with her and she felt her eyelids start to droop. She didn't argue too much, instead, she simply pulled her thick cloak over herself, bunched up a section of the saddle blanket around her head to serve as a pillow and was asleep within minutes.

Ω

It only seemed like a few seconds, Hermione felt a hand shaking her shoulder gently but urgently.

"Granger, you need to wake up now," it said. With an effort, she opened her eyes and looked up into Draco's blue grey ones. There was a tight urgency in them that made her sit up and pay attention.

"What's going on?" she asked, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. It was still dark out but she could see the early predawn light coming over the horizon.

Draco glanced behind them quickly at Felix who was saddled and bridled and standing up waiting for them patiently.

"I stayed awake all night, but about ten minutes ago, I went up to the hilltop to look out and….and I saw them." Hermione sucked in a breath and got up fast.

"Where?" she asked urgently.

"They were in the valley far away from us. I backed out of sight before they saw me, but I made note of their position. It would take them about a half hour to reach us if they were riding at full gallop, but I don't want to take any chances. We need to leave. Now."

And just like that, it was Thengal all over again. Hermione dressed at the speed of light, threw their meagre supplies into the saddle bag and handed it to Draco to tie onto the horse. She fastened her cloak about her shoulders and glanced at her travelling companion.

"Let's go."

He took her hand and the walked over to Felix. Instead of Draco getting on first though, he held out the stirrup for her. She gave him a questioning look but didn't argue as she got into the saddle, and swung himself up agilely beside her.

This time when he reached his arms around her to grasp hold of the reins, she didn't get that warm feeling she had before, but she did begin to feel incredibly safe. She was probably just tense considering that Thengal's murderers were only a half hour away.

Draco tugged on the reins and with a single bound, Felix leapt off the bank and back onto the main road.

Hermione kept her legs pressed firmly into Felix's sides as she wasn't holding on by any other means. She knew that Draco wouldn't let her fall, but knowing she was holding on somehow.

Already the cold ice in her veins at the mention of the Riders drawing near had changed to grim determination. Draco was rigid against her back and she could feel the tension radiating off of him in waves. She wasn't sure she wanted to see his expression and instead focused on the road ahead of them.

The path they were on was rocky and places and she prayed that Felix wouldn't trip and fall into any of them. The horse was a gentle creature but also a loyal companion as she and the blonde had seen him prick his ears back any number of times because of a strange sound during the previous day.

She looked ahead, she began to glance around for any hidden trail where they could lay low until the Riders passed. She knew in the back of their mind that wasn't possible though. Their only chance of escape would be to find the elves. It was now obvious to her that the Riders weren't following physical clues to find them, but rather some kind of power trail that she and Draco had left behind. In every situation they had had with the Riders previously they had used magic, and like a homing missile it had drawn the Nazgul straight to them.

But if they weren't able to use their magic, how the hell were they going to be able to defend themselves should the worst happen?

She looked carefully around as the cool early morning wind blew the hair off of her face, and caused her muscles to hunch from the cold.

The sun was beginning to rise, and its orange golden rays were just peaking over the tops of the trees. Dense forest and mountainous terrain was on their right and below them on their left were the surrounding valleys they had left behind. The mist was rising from the ground and causing a thin silver film to cover the entire picture. The grass was heavy with dew and she could see from her position that Felix's hooves were already wet. The ground was damp also.

The road ahead of them seemed to be treacherous, and the roots of trees were protruding down the pathway. The forest on their right was almost as dense as Fangorn had been and Hermione had a sinking feeling that they would have to go through there soon.

She glanced back at the valleys below them, she couldn't see the Riders, but that didn't mean they weren't there.

"We need to find some way to throw them off our trail," she said to Draco and she felt him nod against her head. "We need to find a way to regroup and get our bearings and we can't do that if those bastards are after us."

In the distance, there was only dense forest and high green trees, going through it would be a long and painstaking process and time was something that they couldn't afford when they were on the run.

"All of a sudden, Hermione called out: "Stop!"

Draco only had a second before he jerked on the reins pulling Felix to a stop, almost causing the horse to rear with the sudden movement.

"Geez Granger, you couldn't have given me any warning?" he drawled dryly. Hermione didn't answer. She swung her leg over the other side of Felix and tugging her skirt between her legs so it wouldn't fly up, she jumped down from the horse.

"You didn't see this pathway," she said hurrying off the road.

Draco looked carefully where she was pointing and saw that she was right. There was a fallen log on the edge of the road and behind it there was a little path worn down by use. The grass was parted to either side and if you looked carefully, you could see the brown of the trampled soil. It lead up the hill and into the forest to their right which provided dense cover.

Draco slid off of Felix's back and hurried over to take a closer look. It only took a second for him to agree that they needed to get off the road. If they did, it would give the Riders less of a chance to track them.

A whinny in the distance caused Felix's ears to lie flat against his head and Draco's eyes shot up to the road behind them.

"Let's get off the road. Now." He said.

He hurried back to the horse hand on his sword and seized Felix's lead. Hermione lifted her skirts and stepped over the log, hurrying up the slope to the summit, Draco following quickly behind.

As soon as they stepped into the shadow of the trees, Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. The tension had visibly dropped off Draco's face as well and Felix nickered quietly as if in agreement. Hermione patted the horse's flank and the blonde and brunette glanced at each other.

"We should get moving," Draco said and she nodded.

"We'll need to be on the road for the rest of the day if we are to stay one step ahead of the Riders and find the elves," Hermione agreed. The blonde acquiesced without words and Hermione watched in concern as he turned away to check Felix's lead. There would be no riding over this terrain if they wanted to keep their horse.

"Malfoy?" Hermione said stepping nearer to him. He didn't look up, so she continued. "You look utterly exhausted. Why don't you ride atop Felix and get some rest? I'll lead him for a while."

The former Slytherin looked at her incredulously. "I can't in good conscience simply let you walk around leading Felix while I rest, suppose someone…..or something will come upon us?"

Hermione smiled, grateful for his concern, but it didn't waver her own for him. "You will be of no use if you are half asleep, and if something should happen…..well you'll be alerted by my screams."

Draco's face turned dark. "That's not funny," he muttered, but after a little more coaxing, he climbed back into the saddle, leaned against Felix's warm neck and was asleep within minutes.

Hermione's smile widened as she watched him. She had gotten a good night's rest, she could afford to walk around for the day. But she needed him alert if anything were to happen.

Calmly, she took Felix by the lead and walked to horse quickly. There wasn't a sound behind them, and she hoped that meant that the Rider's had lost their trail, but she wasn't foolish enough to be certain that it was true. "It would be naïve to do so.

As she walked, she looked around. The sun was beginning to rise higher in the sky and had painted the trees in its golden light. A few birds chirped from their nests in the trees and monarch butterfly darted past her ear.

Hermione gave a smile, as she watched the forest come alive. It was hard to imagine such evil on their trail when this world was so beautiful.

The grass was green and lush, the woods were quiet and the sunlight warm. The trees were at least twenty feet tall and provided such dense cover that only the thinnest of rays could pierce the green netting and cast a fragmented light down upon the two travelers.

Hermione closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sun, it was warm and lit her brow with a warm golden light.

_I love this place._

The thought startled her and she opened her eyes with a snap. Where had that come from? They were running from creatures a thousand times worse than Voldemort could ever be and yet with one kiss from the sun, she had gone into a dreamlike state.

_But its true isn't it?_ A voice in the back of her mind whispered. _Despite the problems of this world, you do not want to leave it. And why? Because here is the first place that you have found peace in the past year. You are beginning to slowly recover from the war and even the air in this place is helping you to do that. It's not wrong to want to stay._

Hermione took a deep breath as she considered the direction that her thoughts had taken. Thengal's death had thrown into sharp relief the fact that this world wasn't perfect and that it was full of injustice, but wasn't every world?

Their magic here was stronger than it had ever been. She could do things here that she had only dreamed of back home. But this wasn't a question of having more power, because the more power one possessed, the greater the chance there was of someone taking it from you. It was useful, but it wasn't worth one's life.

Voldemort didn't know that…..but she did.

She bit her lip as she absently led Felix over rocks and down the slopes. The ground in the forest was uneven and after several hours she was exhausted, but she kept pushing.

_The good news is, I am getting one hell of a workout, _she thought wryly as she scrambled down the slope once more, carefully leading the horse so it wouldn't trip and wouldn't jostle at the same time.

The last few hours had been quiet and she was grateful for the time to think. They need a plan, and needed one badly.

The wand had pointed east and she knew that was more or less in the direction they were going, but she had no idea where the stronghold of the elves was or even what it was called.

Hermione growled to herself quietly. This was maddening! Their very lives right now were depending on whether or not they could locate the elves and the only semblance of specificity they had was the direction to go in! They might search for years and never find it! No something needed to change and it needed to change soon, or she and Draco would fall prey to the Nazgul.

And there would be no getting out of it this time.

Ω

Meanwhile a few miles away, a very different conversation was being had.

Three horses, a white, a brown and tan stallion were making their way slowly east back to Rivendell.

Upon the stallions rode three elves, two of them alike as two twins. Their hair was dark like their father's with the same eyes and pale skin as their mother. They were clothed in riding garments of dark blue trimmed in thin silver brocade. Quivers of arrows were strapped to their backs and bows were thrown over their shoulders. The tips of their ears could be seen poking out from their dark curtains of hair.

The other elf had long light brown hair. A section of it was tied back from his face so the wind did not blow it into his eyes, which were darting around for signs of anything amiss.

Two long silver swords were strapped to his back and his hand was always twitching towards either one of them.  
>Whereas the two dark haired young men at his side were chatting amiably, he was quiet.<br>"What troubles you Glorfindel?" One of the brothers inquired of him. The elf to whom the question was asked ran a hand through his light hair in confusion.  
>"I know not," he replied. "Yet something disturbs my spirit. There is a disquiet in this land."<br>"Think you it be the orcs?" They asked. The trio had come across a band of the rogue creatures a few days earlier. They were returning from a diplomatic mission to Gondor, and all were eager to come to Imladris after more than two fort nights away. The twins, being the sons of Elrond were envoys to the rest of Middle Earth.  
>"Perhaps," Glorfindel mused. "But more so the feeling that some shadow has fallen over the land and I know not what."<br>The twins glanced at their companion and exchanged uneasy looks. Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir had ridden hard since their departure from Minas Tirith, their meeting with Lord Denethor not having gone as planned. His sons Boromir and Faramir were far more receptive, but having understood where the steward of Gondor stood, the three elves had seen it fit to return to Imladris to inform Lord Elrond.  
>"Perhaps it is only the ill parting we took of the steward?" Elladan suggested. Glorfindel considered this before shaking his head firmly. "No. A shadow has fallen upon the land and I know not what it is, yet I know it brings tidings of an even greater evil."<br>The twins exchanged glances again before looking around uneasily. Glorfindel possessed an uncanny ability to sense danger even though it may be miles away, and over the years, they had learned not to question it.  
>"Come, it is nigh on six days before next we view the valley," Glorfindel said, spurring his horse forward. "Let us hurry lest this shadow overtake us."<br>Elladan and Elrohir, alarmed by the direction of the other elves' words, spurred their horses into action and followed Glorfindel at a more urgent pace.

Ω

Hermione decided that even as the afternoon waned on that she still wouldn't wake Draco. He was sleeping like the dead and he needed it. She had rummaged in the saddle bag and found parcel of bread and cheese which she had broken in half and eaten to quiet her growling stomach.  
>She was tired from walking up slopes and climbing over embankments but she knew she daren't stop as the Riders were after them. The day and the entire forest had been quiet, but that didn't stop her from feeling any less tense. If anything, the silence had sharpened her awareness of every sound that did happen, no matter how small.<br>The brunette estimated that it was around four in the afternoon when a yawn sounded from behind her and she turned back to see Draco sitting up on the top of Felix. His eyes were slightly bleary from sleep, but they cleared pretty quickly. His golden hair was tousled but she was becoming used to that look, in fact she liked it better then when he had had every hair in place like he used.  
>He caught her staring and gave her an amused smile. "What time is?"<br>"I think it's about four in the afternoon," she replied calmly and he gaped at her.  
>"Granger, why didn't you wake me hours ago? I've been asleep all day!" Hermione gave a nonchalant shrug. "You needed to sleep," she said. "I didn't have any problems all day, it was quiet."<br>Draco growled quietly in his throat but she didn't seem to notice. Bullheaded Gryffindor! He thought.  
>He slid down off of Felix's back and adjusted the saddle. Hermione took the moment that he was distracted to look him over carefully. She hadn't even noticed that he had changed clothes until now. He must have washed himself after she had fallen asleep the night before. For now he was wearing a black tunic that was belted at the waist and the same dark breeches tucked into his knee high boots. All the dark colors made his hair seem to glow white.<br>She blinked when he turned toward her and quickly looked away down at the skirt of her own brown dress. It was thick and just brushed the tops of the grass, it went right to the edges of her shoulders like the tan dress she had worn the day they arrived in Middle Earth had done, but it was considerably warmer. She had belted her dagger to her waist and her hair she had left long around her shoulders. All in all, she looked like woman fit for travel.  
>Draco strode up to her and gently took Felix's lead as the long delay had caused the animals to graze.<br>"Come on, it's going to be dark soon and I have no desire to spend the night in the forest. We need to find a place that is high up but well-fortified so we can see out but no one can see us," he said as he turned to lead them on.  
>Hermione decided not to tell him that they had been traipsing through the forest all day and it was unlikely they were to get anywhere before nightfall.<br>However, fate seemed to be out to prove her wrong because within the next hour, she saw a clearing in the trees several hundred feet up ahead.  
>By this time, the sun had halfway hidden itself on the horizon and so the light was shining at only half its intensity. Thus she was relieved when she saw the break in the woods.<br>"Finally some luck," she heard the blonde mutter and she smiled grimly. As soon as they passed through the last of the trees, they found themselves on a flat grassy plain for which there was nothing but ground and sky for miles around and off in the distance, there stood a high outcropping of rock. It's base around was at least fifty feet wide and the entire thing was easily fifty feet high. It's very top almost took the shape of a crown but Hermione could see that as they drew nearer it was more of the shape of a lookout.  
>"It looks like a watchtower," she murmured and the blonde nodded in agreement. "It seems that luck is on our side Granger, come on, we can rest there tonight."<br>By this time, the sun was almost gone and suddenly a chill set up the witch's skin. She shivered and wrapped her cloak more firmly around herself, before raising her skirt and quickening her stride toward the watchtower.  
>"Let's hurry," she said to Draco, "I don't want to be out here on the plain at the night with nothing but the wind before us and the Riders behind."<br>The two of them hastened forward, but it took at least twenty minutes before they had traversed the field to the watch tower, and by this the sun was all but gone. Hermione shivered as she watched the dark blue over take the gold.  
>Finally, however, they reached the base of the massive stone structure, it appearing even more enormous the closer they got.<br>"This thing is huge Malfoy," Hermione commented, "we'll be able to see miles around from here." The blonde nodded. "That's the idea Granger. We'll be able to see everything, but no one will be able to see us."  
>Draco led Felix over to a section of their rock base where there were growing tall grasses and rushed and cleared a place for the horse to lie down. Once he had down this, he closed the place over the top of the horse and sealed it with the rest of the grass. He ensured that Felix's lead was tied to one of the strongest roots before he turned back to Hermione.<br>"Come on, let's see if we can climb this thing."  
>She nodded and the two quickly began looking for a set of footholds they could use to scale the massive rock face. It only took a few minutes before they found what looked like a set of narrow stairs wrapping around a section of the outer wall leading up to the top where there appeared to be a landing. Exchanging knowing glances, the witch and wizard immediately hurried towards them and starred up.<br>Hermione was amazed at how dark it had gotten while they were there, he moon had come out, but it's light was weaker than before and the wind was blowing the clouds across its face effectively creating a shadowy mosaic on anything below.  
>When they reached the top, Hermione say that the plateau they were in was circular and all about them, ringing the circle were tall pillars made of stone, they were broken down in places and some were rubble but both the blonde and the brunette could tell that it had indeed been some kind of lookout post. The ground was all stone, but Hermione was so tired and sore that she didn't care.<br>Draco must have seen her exhaustion because he put a hand on her shoulder. "Get some rest Granger. Merlin knows you need it. I'll keep watch for a while."  
>This time, the witch didn't even argue. Instead she simply nodded, unclasped her cloak from her throat and laid it on the ground. She lay down and was asleep within minutes.<br>Draco hesitated for the briefest of seconds before he untied his own cloak and draped it over her. She seemed to relax into it and a wry smile touched his mouth. The blonde walked over to the farthest pillar, rested his back against it and took a quick look out at the surrounding grounds before turning back.  
>He hoped that Felix was warm enough for the night. He like this horse, it had been a faithful companion during the last two days and many hours of travel. He had always wanted a horse but his father had forbade it. He had consistently asked his son whenever he brought it up, "what in Merlin's name do you need a horse for?" Eventually Draco had just stopped asking.<br>Odd that he had to go to Middle Earth to get something that he always wanted.  
>He drew his sword and stared at his reflection in the flat of the blade. The last week of travel and not having as much to eat as he would normally, had toughened the blonde up considerably. Any baby fat that had clung to his cheeks before was now gone and he hadn't had much of it. His features were more defined and his eyes had grown slightly darker. He recognized the shade change as unresolved grief, both from the war and the death of Thengal.<br>The farmer had taught him more about what it meant to be brave in the last three days then his father had in eighteen years. The eyes he was looking into weren't the eyes of the immature boy he had been during his Hogwarts days, nor did they bear the haunted look that was left over from the war. There was still sorrow there, but a calmness that betrayed the fact that he had become a man.  
>He wasn't sure what to think of these changes, they reminded him that childhood was now gone, but a part of his mind that had always been more mature then the rest of it whispered that they were necessary.<br>Draco didn't know how much time passed as he sat there, just staring into the flat of the blade at his reflection. Every so often he would look out to make sure all was well, or check to see that Hermione was still asleep.  
>The night was quiet, very little noise except the whistling of the wind past their hiding place could be heard.<br>So it was of course an understated shock when a telltale screech pierced the night air...a screech that was all too familiar.  
>Draco shot to his feet and peered out over the landscape, praying that he was hearing things. He squinted, trying to make out figures in the dim light. At first there was nothing and he began to relax.<br>But then his heart dropped in horrified dismay when out of the darkness and the mist, nine figures appeared, swords drawn. They were on foot and the swords were raised in front of their faces as they advanced on the rock, growing closer and closer, within seconds they had reached its base.  
>Draco felt the blood drain from his face.<br>He turned and saw that Hermione was sitting up looking at him, her face as pale as his was.  
>"They're here aren't they?" She asked and he wished to Merlin that he could deny it, say it was the wind, anything but that. But he couldn't. And so wordlessly he nodded.<p>

She was on her feet in an instant and pushed their cloaks off to one side before drawing her dagger.  
>"It's too late to get down and get onto Felix isn't it?" She asked quietly and he didn't reply, the unresponsiveness being all the answer he wanted to give.<br>"I'll keep them occupied. While they're distracted, you get down to Felix and get the hell out of here." He had no idea where the words came from, but he knew that he meant them.  
>Instead of freaking out like he had expected her to do, she gave him a sad smile before reaching out and pressing her hand to his cheek. A second passed where they didn't say anything. Golden eyes looked into silver ones.<br>"You really are more of a Gryffindor then anyone ever gave you credit for," she said quietly. But then she took her hand away and her tone hardened.  
>"But I'm not leaving, I'm done running from my fears. All I've done for the past year is run. Not anymore. They're not going to kill us, but we can kill them."<p>

Do you really believe that?" Draco asked. The brunette didn't answer and that was all the response that was needed.

And so, the two of them, weapons and magic in hand, stood back to back, in the center of the ring of stone, waiting for the Nazgul.

Ω

It was growing dark when the three horses bearing the elves made to ride past the great watchtower of Weathertop. Usually at this time of night all was quiet except for the sounds of the wind whistling across the plain.

However, as soon as the horses set their hooves onto the plain, Elrohir began to shake violently as if he were going into shock.

"What's wrong?" Elladan asked urgently. There were few things that could make his brother tremble. But as he observed his twin's expression, he saw that Elrohir's face was white with rage. Wordlessly he pointed out on the plain about fifty yards ahead of them. Glorfindel bore a similar expression and Elladan stared out into the night, trying to see what they were seeing.

As he looked, he saw nine tall figures, shrouded in black, their naked swords reflecting the moonlight as they moved as one to the base of the great watchtower and began to climb ever so slowly up it. They never faltered in their stride as they walked.

Glorfindel's face was pale with shock and rage. "They have not been seen so near the valley in an age," he snarled, lips curling. "Why are they here now?"

"Can you not see?" Elrohir asked calmly. He gestured to one of the furthermost corners of the tower of stone and the three could see a black horse, saddled and bridled, bound to one of the roots from the tall rushes. It had been hastily tied, and the three elves could tell that this horse did not belong to the Riders.

"They are hunting someone," Elladan growled and his brother and friend hissed. They looked quickly up at the watchtower and saw a flash of stark white against the dismal blue grey of the stones. The eyes of men would fall short of what it was, but the sight of the Children of Iluvatar is long reaching indeed and all three of them beheld a young man not twenty summers past, his hair as pale as starlight, wielding a silver sword.

_Something must be done, _Glorfindel thought before he turned to his two companions. "I do not ask you to follow me," he said quietly.

"And yet we shall," the twins replied calmly. Glorfindel gave them a grim smile and turned his horse around to face the watchtower before the three companions dug their heels into the sides of their horses and rode hard for Weathertop.

Ω

Later, Hermione would remember every breath she took during that encounter, she would remember every step and every spell she spoke. She would remember the wind rushing past her face as she ducked and wove around the Nazgul.

But most importantly, she would remember every second that ticked by as she and Draco stood shoulder to shoulder, blades drawn, staring into each opening of the watchtower….just waiting.

Each second felt like a year and during the seconds that ticked by as if they were running through molasses, Hermione became gradually aware of every breath she was taking. She saw it come out of her mouth and nose in a thin white mist before it got sucked back in and disappeared.

Her muscles began to feel like lead and she was only barely aware of Draco's presence directly behind her. Her hands on the hilt of her dagger were gripping the poniard so tight that she thought it would break.

And then they came.

They walked in a uniform formation of black and silver, hoods pulled up over their faces and swords raised in front of them. Slowly, they advanced towards the blonde and the brunette. Hermione was aware of every step they took, of the sound of their armor clinking against the stone, but also how utterly silent they were.

Any sane person would have been backing away at this point, but judging from the past war and the things that she and Draco had done, they were a little less sane than the average witch or wizard.

But it still surprised her when Draco lowered his blade methodically and raised his hand high in the air. She didn't hear him speak but she didn't have to. There was a concussion that rocked the ground and Hermione stumbled slightly. When she glanced up again, there was a perfect spherical crack around her and the blonde that was about five feet wide in diameter. Draco pointed at it and instantly, the two were surrounded in a circle of flames.

The Riders let out a screech and for a second, Hermione allowed herself a tiny grim smile, letting herself consider that they had the upper hand.  
>But then the Rider in center of the Nine, swung its sword in a wide arc and sliced right through the flames Draco had created. They sputtered and went out instantly.<p>

"So much for the theatrics," Draco muttered and it was such an insane statement, that if the situation had been different in any way, Hermione would have laughed.

And then all hell broke loose.

Hermione would later question her sanity by doing this, but at the moment, she didn't think. With a wordless cry, she leapt out of the circle and dove toward the nearest Rider with nothing but her dagger and the magic boiling in her blood.

It was insane, utterly insane, and she could just barely hear the sound of Draco engaged in battle a few feet away. But she was concentrating on her own fight.

Somehow, with an insane amount of luck, she managed to avoid the long blade. It was odd though, because he should have been scoring multiple hits upon her. But every time the blade came close to touching her skin, it was instantly turned away.

_What the hell is going on here? _She managed to think. Every time the blade came within inches of her, it turned back towards the one wielding it, stabbing at the Rider.

Hermione had no idea what she was doing or how she was doing it, but a tiny grim smile touched her lips.

There was a bright flash of light a few feet away and she whirled in time to see Draco throw two of the Riders who had been coming up behind her against one of the pillars causing it to crack and part of it to go crumbling to the ground below. He had done nothing but raise his hand at them and it happened.

He threw her a grim smile which she had barely a second to return before they were at it hammer and tongs again.

This time, Hermione drew upon her own stores of magic. She was still frightened but a little less so.

She raised her dagger and called out: "Incendio!" Immediately the dark robes of her opponent were set ablaze. The Nazgul gave off a horrible shriek and instantly began to writhe. Hermione felt her strength wane as she held the spell.

Across the expanse of stone, she could see that Draco was using both his magic and his sword to hold off three of the Nazgul at once. His face was grey from strain though and she knew if something didn't give soon they were dead.

No sooner had the thought crossed her mind when a voice rang out across the plain, calm and clear as a bell.

A second later, three men, no….elves, for she caught the side of leaf shaped ears through the curtain of their hair, leapt over the run down pillars of the watch tower and joined in the fray. She could tell right away that they weren't magic users like Draco and her, but with the way they fought they didn't need to be. They moved like tornados through the Nazgul.

One of them, one with light colored hair was whirling his two silver swords as he engaged in battle with two of the Nine. The others had drawn what looked like long hunting knives and were going at it with the rest.

Hermione felt a surge of relief. They were saved!

The brief reprieve was short lived however because she saw one of the Nazgul creeping close to Draco and before she realized what she was doing, she raised her hand and yelled out: "Fiendfyre!"

The brunette had only tried this spell a few times at home and it was always very difficult. But somehow here it was a little easier. Perhaps because this time, she wasn't doing it to kill anyone. All she wanted to scare the Riders off.

Immediately in front of her an enormous fiery lion appeared. It gave a thundering roar before it turned toward where she directed it and attacked every Nazgul within reach, setting them ablaze and making the space even more chaotic then it already was. Hermione caught the sight of the three elves shocked faces. But that was her last sensation before something she didn't account for happened.

The Nazgul were beginning to scatter and she was so sure that soon the battle would be over, yet she didn't know that she wouldn't see the end of it.

All of a sudden, she felt something cold and heavy touch her shoulder and immediately the cold of the touch seeped through the material of her dress to her skin and her muscles turned to jelly. Her eye lids became heavy and the feeling of weighty lethargy came upon her once more. She felt like she was being forcibly put to sleep and her last sensations were the hooded face of one of the Nine leaning over her, and Draco screaming.

"NO!"

The blonde was sure he had never yelled louder in that moment. He didn't think, he just acted. Moving with a speed which wouldn't have been possible at home, he took the distance to Hermione in two long bounds, and raising his hand, he willed the magic out of him and blasted the Nazgul leaning over the brunette into the stone pillar behind it.

There was a bright flash and a terrible cracking noise as the pillar crumbled and fell over the side of the watchtower taking the last of the Nine with it.

And just like that, they were alone and the battle was over.

But at a terrible price.

Draco felt to his knees beside the witch and gripped her hand between his for all he was worth. Her face was pale and her skin cold when he touched it.

"Hermione please wake up," he whispered, barely conscious of the three figures that had joined the fight.

One of them kneeled on the other side of her, taking her hand and looking at her with a critical eye. Draco glanced up at the dark haired figure and was shocked to see the telltale leaf shaped ears that only meant one thing.

"You….you're elves," were the only words that came out of his mouth. The one that had taken Hermione's hand looked up and spared him a small grim smile.

"Aye young lord. I am Elrohir and my brother Elladan and companion Glorfindel are with me also. Thank the Valar we came upon you."

"Aye it was a lucky thing," one of the elves behind him said.

Draco took a moment to glance up at the other two who were standing over them. One was an exact copy of the one called Elrohir who was examining Hermione and he took him to be Elladan. The one with hair the color of caramel though was much different. He was still holding his drawn silver swords in his hands, and Elladan was gripping his hunting knives. They were all dressed in dark riding clothes trimmed in silver. He could read the concern on their faces.

Draco cast his gaze back to Elrohir who was looking at Hermione with a critical eye. The elf glanced up at Glorfindel who knelt and pressed his hand to Hermione's forehead. Then he looked back up at Draco who felt like he would explode from waiting.

"Take heart, she lives," he said and in that moment the blonde was speechless with relief. A moment later he frowned though.

"What's wrong with her then?" he asked and the three elves exchanged glances. The one called Glorfindel sighed.

"She has been Touched," he replied. "I have only seen this practice only with ones they wish to entrap and it has not happened in an age."

"I don't understand," Draco said in frustration.

"It would seem that their orders were not to kill you, but to ensure that you came quietly," Elrohir explained patiently.

"The Touch is a power of the Nazgul and it immediately incapacitates the one who comes into contact with it. I have not seen it put to use in the last six hundred years," Glorfindel continued.

"The Nazgul only use it when they wish to capture someone alive because that person would be of particular interest to them and the master they serve. A master many believe to be dead. And judging from the events of this night, you would be of particular interest to him," Elladan finished.

It went unspoken what had happened there and the former Slytherin decided that he would ponder the feats he and Hermione had pulled at a later time. When they were both well.

Draco looked helplessly at the three elves. "Can you heal her?" he asked. Elladan and Elrohir looked at Glorfindel. The light haired elf smoothed Hermione's hair for a moment.

"This is beyond my skill to heal. They have placed the lady-"

"Hermione," Draco mumbled absently. The elves looked at him curiously.

"The lady Hermione has been placed in a comatose state," Glorfindel continued. "The only way she will wake is with a strong healing magic that I do not here possess. The one to whom I speak of who can perform this is Lord Elrond. We must bring her to Imladris."

"Yes," Elrohir breathed. "Our father will be able to help her. We must get there quickly."

Glorfindel bent and swept Hermione into his arms as if she weighed no more than a feather. Draco had to remind himself that it was because elves were much stronger than humans.

The one called Elladan held out a hand to him and helped the blonde to his feet.

"As an aside," he said looking at Draco curiously. "What is your name?" Draco gave the three elves a grim smile before he spoke the title he was beginning to adopt in Middle Earth.

"Draconis, my name is Draconis."

The five of them, Hermione nestled in Glorfindel's arms, made their way quickly down from Weathertop. Draco had seized his and Hermione's cloaks as well as her dagger before leaving the watchtower. He didn't want to face her wrath when she woke and found he hadn't brought them.

The twins walked on the other side of him, both of them murmuring in their strange tongue.

The blonde's hands were shaking from the events of the night and the rage over what had been done to Hermione, but a strange calm was beginning to steal over him. They had found the elves, which at least was some relief.

From what Draco understood, Hermione was in a coma and the only thing that would wake her was a strong healing magic that only the father of Elladan and Elrohir possessed. They had to bring Hermione to the stronghold of the elves so she could get the help she needed.

He kept chanting this information over and over to himself in his mind, along with the words, _she's going to be fine_ for quite some time.

He finally noticed the magnificent horses that were tethered to the roots at the base of the watchtower. Glorfindel placed Hermione in the saddle before swinging up behind her, making sure that she was tucked against him so she didn't fall.

Draco felt a highly irrational small stab of irritation at this gesture but he said nothing, noting that the brothers had mounted their steeds as well.

"You have a horse, Draconis?" Elladan asked and Draco was jerked out of the stupor he was in. He nodded and hurried over to the bushes where Felix was tethered. The horse nickered when it saw him. Quickly untying the lead, Draco stuffed Hermione's dagger and cloak into the saddle bag, seized Felix's reins and led him over to the three waiting elves before mounting the horse in one fluid movement.

He didn't notice the look of surprise the three gave him for this gesture.

_His cloth is poor, yet he mounts his horse like a prince, _Glorfindel noted. The twins exchanged glances. _Father will want to know more of Draconis when we reach Imladris, _Elrohir thought.

After ensuring that his sword was once strapped to his waist, the blonde turned to face his new companions.

"How far is it to Imladris?" he asked, surprising himself that he remembered the name.

"Six days," Glorfindel replied and Draco nearly choked. "Six day?! Will Hermione last that long?"

"I caught a glimpse of her mind, Draconis," It was Elrohir who replied. "There is a wall built around it that is of strong substance. There is a darkness trying to assail it, but I am confident that the wall will hold."

And if it shouldn't?" Draco countered. The twins exchanged glances. "That is something we should pray does not happen," Elladan finished.

_Well that's very comforting, _Draco grumbled inwardly.

"If this discourse is spent, we must make haste," Glorfindel broke in. "The Nazgul may be defeated for now, but they will regroup and return." Draco was too tired to even wonder how this was possible.

"Come, let us ride now for Imladris," Elladan declared and they spurred their horses about to turn once more east.

"Let us pray that the Grace of the Valar is upon us, for we shall be hard pressed to reach Rivendell with the Nine at our heels," Elrohir muttered under his breath.

As if punctuating his statement, there was a far off shriek from the subject in question that made Draco stiffen.

"Aye. Come, let us ride," Glorfindel replied and dug his heels into the sides of his mount, urging the horse into a gallop. Elladan and Elrohir did likewise and Draco spurred Felix after them, the horse easily keeping pace.

He was glad for the fact that he had donned his cloak once more as the night had grown cold. And as the elves and the wizard galloped away from the watchtower, Draco turned back quickly and caught sight of the stone structure one last time, long enough for him to swear vengeance.

The Nine had killed Thengal and wounded Hermione. He would make them pay.

And with the wind in their faces, the four horseman rode for Rivendell, the shriek of the Nazgul echoing behind them.

Ω

**I was literally so excited to post this chapter, as things finally begin to get real. I was excited looking it over and I can't wait to hear what you guys think! Hermione and Draco have finally made contact with the elves! Glorfindel, Elladan and Elrohir will prove to become good friends to the pair over time. The race is on to get to Imladris in time! Will Hermione be able to repel the dark magic assailing her mind? Will Draco and the elves reach Rivendell in time or will they be caught by the Nazgul once more? Only one way to find out. :) Let me know what you think guys and as always...happy reading everyone!**


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